Union of Souls
by kittsbud
Summary: Sequel to 'Of One Blood.' A mysterious energy force is threatening to destroy mankind and not even Time Lords are immune. Will the Doctor be able to save the day? In fact, is he even the Doctor at all? COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Union of Souls**

_Prologue_

_London_

_Dec 22__nd__, 12.01am_

Tracey Collins wasn't really sure why she'd parked down this particular alleyway. It was dark, dirty, and the wet concrete beneath her feet was slimy with lack of care from the local council.

The pathway led between two disused buildings that had once been factories. It was within walking distance of the local theatre and there were no double yellow lines anywhere to be seen. _That_ was why she'd parked here, she convinced herself.

And after all, it wasn't as if she was actually alone and had anything to be scared of.

The echo of her high heels ringing in her ears reminded Tracey that muggers and rapists didn't care why women parked their clapped out Vauxhalls in places like this, nor did they really care if their victims were alone or in pairs.

Criminals tended to think of girls as the weaker sex, and right now Tracey was inclined to agree with them.

The thirty-four-year-old shop assistant glanced over at her workmate and smiled wanly. This was supposed to be a girlie night out to see their favourite soap star on stage, and so far it had been everything they'd expected and more.

And yet, now, as they headed back for the car, Tracey knew Carrie was feeling just as uneasy as she was. The creases in the younger girl's face as she tried not to stare at every elongated shadow were evidence enough.

"Next time, I think we park in the multi-storey," Tracey suggested with a sigh as she tugged out the Vectra's key fob. "Might be free, but this place gives me the willies, big time." She pressed the centre of her car's ignition key, but the familiar beep and flash of orange indicators didn't come.

Tracey pressed again. "I knew I should've got those new batteries in this thing…"

Still no reaction from the car.

Carrie looked over her shoulder as if some childhood bogeyman was going to jump through the nearest boarded up window and grab her with his claw-like hands. Her wary eyes darted from building to building and then to the far end of the alleyway.

"Maybe we should go back, call for a mechanic or somethin'?" she mumbled, her voice quivering a touch.

"Yeah right, pay the local grease monkey a hundred quid to pick my own car's locks?" Tracey fumbled with the door and finally got the Vauxhall to open up, but without the chip inside the key actually activating, the alarm system wouldn't budge, and she knew it.

The car was totally immobile.

"Now I wish I'd joined the AA when that goon at Asda tried to talk me into it…"

Tracey slumped down onto the driver's seat and reluctantly pulled out her mobile. She hadn't much credit left, but maybe she'd be able to get through to her brother and he'd know what to do – if not, he could at least pick them up so they didn't have to walk home alone.

"Trace, I don't like this. Somethin' ain't right…" Carrie began to rub at her arms as if the temperature had suddenly dropped several degrees. "I think maybe we should just go…"

Tracey pressed hard on the LG's touch screen, but still the little phone said there was no signal. _No signal in the middle of the capital city? What is this, 'The Day The Earth Stood Still'? Yeah, right, no Keanu around here..._

Eventually, she gave in and tossed the mobile onto the passenger seat. A wonderful night was turning into a disaster, and all because she'd been cheap and not wanted to pay the local NCP fees.

"Suppose we'll have to walk it home." She climbed back out of the car and slammed the door shut as if it was the Vectra's fault it wouldn't start.

Letting her heels drag a little, she began to clomp back down the alley with Carrie in tow.

Looking into the distance, she realized just how long the path was between the two buildings. In fact even pedestrians on the pavement that lay adjacent looked like matchstick figures. It hadn't seemed that far in the light of day, had it? _Great, Tracey, you and your bloody scatterbrained ideas…_

Something clattered behind them and both girls whirled around, spooked by the abrupt movement. It was probably a cat, or worse, a rat, but in the gloom, it was too hard to make out any distinct shapes.

And that made it all the more terrifying.

The sound came again, and this time a lanky figure emerged from the shadows along with the rattling.

Tracey felt her stomach lurch as she looked at him.

The man – if he could be called that – looked like he hadn't eaten in months. He was as thin as a rake and had eyes as wide as a frying pan. A thick growth of beard covered his angular features and his trousers were muddied and torn.

The word _tramp_ came to mind, but even that description was too good for this loser. He was probably a wino or drug addict.

"We don't have any money, so don't even _think_ about it…" Tracey let a hand slide towards her bag. She didn't have any Mace, but maybe a face full of Impulse would slow the scruffy little waster down.

"_Tracey…"_ Carrie's bottom lip was quivering and she turned and began to run towards the open end of the alley without waiting for her friend.

Tracey rolled her eyes and backed away from the man, but she didn't run. It was obvious despite his apparent lack of muscle that he was as sprightly as a Springbok. He'd catch them in no time with their stupid high heels and tight skirts.

"We need to _run_!"

The tatty tramp surprised her with his outburst. Instead of attacking her or grabbing her handbag, he was frantically gesturing after Carrie, arms waving around like he'd had lessons from Magnus Pike.

Tracey cringed. Did anyone even remember Magnus Pike these days? _Jeez, I'm getting to be a right old fart…_

"Well what are you waiting for? _RUN_!" The tramp grabbed her arm with long spindly fingers and tugged hard. He gave no explanation why they should suddenly exert themselves for no good reason, but Tracey felt strangely compelled to follow his instructions.

Kicking off her shoes, she ignored the pain of the uneven concrete and discarded rubbish digging into the soles of her feet, and began to sprint after Carrie.

The tramp gave chase, but for some reason he seemed content to bring up the rear, even though he could undoubtedly run faster than either girl.

Every few moments, he seemed to slow his gait and dare to look over his shoulder. If he saw anything there, he didn't mention it as they ran towards the light of the nearest street lamp.

"Who _are you_?" Tracey managed to ask in between sucking down air. _And why the hell am I taking notice of a word you have to say?_ she muttered under her breath.

But the tramp didn't answer.

Instead, he'd stopped dead in the middle of the alley, his dark brown eyes growing even wider than before. "Can't be…" He rubbed at his beard as if the rough tactile sensation would give him answers. "Couldn't have got in front so fast…"

Tracey pulled to a halt with him and gasped down air as the stitch in her side threatened to double her over. When she'd regained her breath enough to concentrate, she looked up, following the stranger's gaze.

At the end of the alley, just in front of an astonished Carrie Peters, was something the likes of which none of them had ever seen before.

Stretching from one factory corner to the other was what looked like a wall of energy.

The only thing making it visible to the naked eye were the sparks and tendrils of pale blue electricity that seemed to stretch across it like a pattern of intricate veins.

The outline ebbed and flowed as some unknown power source channelled across it, through it, _feeding_ it.

Carrie gulped, but somehow her throat wouldn't let her swallow. She didn't look scared, she looked terrified.

Tracey shared the younger girl's horror. Things didn't happen like this, not in the real world. This was something straight out of the whacked out Sci-Fi shows her little brother loved so much.

Carrie moved, daring to edge towards the spiking, energy -spitting phenomenon. She rocked on the balls of her feet, obviously torn between common sense and the overwhelming desire to escape into the open world.

"_Don't_ touch it!" The tramp held one arm outstretched, begging her to retreat, but Carrie just wanted to escape. "_Don't!"_

Making a final decision, Carrie Peters dived forwards at the pulsing barrier of light and hissing static, ignoring the stranger's pleas.

Her body seemed to slam into the thing like she had run smack into a brick wall at thirty miles an hour. And instead of moving through the discharge, she appeared to be held by it, like a fly trapped in a giant spider's web.

As Tracey and the tramp watched, Carrie began to convulse, her petite frame spasming as the blue sparking current danced over her torso and limbs. She screamed over and over as thin streams of blood began to ooze from her ears, nose, and eventually her eyes.

And then, suddenly, Carrie grew still, her taut muscles relaxing as some unseen hand finally let her go.

She tumbled to the wet concrete and remained there, motionless.

_Dead. _

Tracey Collins' scream mimicked that of her friend's only seconds earlier, and she turned, intent on running back to her car and locking herself in.

Except now, the wall of death was behind her and the stranger, waiting patiently for them to succumb. It seemed to want them, to need them, to want to _feed _off them, even though there was no way to know what it was thinking.

Indeed, if it_ could _think.

Tracey ran forwards anyway, making the same mistake her friend had. It wasn't a well considered choice, but more of a knee jerk reaction. She wanted to escape, she would feel safe in her car.

This was all probably just some nightmare after all the junk food she'd eaten outside the theatre. _So not eating burger and chips again with all that sauce… _

Tracey impacted with the phenomenon and realized the last sentient thought she was going to have was about _chips._

The moment her flesh came into contact with the bizarre energy form, she knew how a car battery felt after being sucked dry by lights being left on all night. Something was draining her, leeching her life away as easily as flipping a switch.

Tracey yelled out in agony as white-hot spikes seemed to pierce her brain, searching, probing until there was nothing left but an empty shell.

***

Like Carrie, the bare husk that had once been Tracey Collins fell to the ground and was still, small streams of blood ebbing from her features and congealing in small pools under her skull.

The wall of energy burbled, flashing and sparking like a child that had been given a new toy. And yet still it wanted more.

The tramp stared at it inquisitively, head cocked to one side as if analyzing every hiss of static and pulse of energy it emitted. "You're beautiful, aren't you then?"

It burbled again, blue lightning streaks forking from its centre as it began to move, pressing the stranger backwards until he had nowhere left to go.

As his spine bumped into the cold brickwork of the factory wall and he was engulfed by its raw power, he smiled almost excitedly. "Beautiful…but _oh so_ very deadly, eh?"

Thirty seconds later, not two, but three bodies littered the ground in the alleyway, and as the crescent moon momentarily broke through the clouds above, it began to rain.

Not a heavy downpour, but just enough to make the small puddles of blood begin to turn into watered down lakes of crimson.

From somewhere in the city, a dog howled like a prairie wolf, its intuition telling it something was off.

But already, it was too late.

A new kind of predator had found London, and soon it would need to feed again…

_Chapter One_

_Dec 22__nd__, 11.21am_

_Underground Facility_

Martha Jones couldn't believe what she was doing. After careful consideration, she'd convinced herself never to step into a U.N.I.T. building ever again.

While the work the establishment conducted was for the right reasons, its military leaders tended to use force more often than was necessary. Something she had almost become_ too_ accustomed to at one point.

She had almost, _almost_ become like them.

And yet, here she was, a few days before Christmas, ambling through the long empty corridors as if she'd never left the organisation. A visitor's badge hung from the top pocket of her leather jacket, but she suspected that if Colonel Alan Mace had his way, she'd soon be inducted back into the fold.

She'd been shopping for last minute gifts for Tom, her fiancé, when she'd received the call. The Colonel hadn't said much – except that she was needed, and that no other substitute would do. It had been the last line that had hooked her.

That, and the fact that Mace rarely pleaded the way he had. She'd worked with him before against the Sontarans with the Atmos device, and he was a typically stoic British officer.

Begging in any way, shape or form was definitely beneath him.

So why did U.N.I.T. think it needed _her_ so badly when it had top ranking experts from every nation in the world amongst its divisions?

Martha rounded a corner and flashed her I.D. at a reader inset in the wall. It accepted the code, allowing her into the next section of the base. She knew an armed guard would be waiting for her at the end of the corridor.

It was procedure – just like the old days.

True to form, a young soldier in black, red beret slightly askew, stood on guard with snub-nosed weapon at the ready.

What she hadn't expected was that Colonel Mace was waiting with the soldier, a grim expression clouding his features that suggested whatever was going on was far graver than even his phone call had implied.

The officer held out a hand, but it was clear he wanted done with the pleasantries as swiftly as possible. "Dr. Jones…Thank you for coming at such short notice. I wouldn't have called you…_but_…"

"_But_, you have something going on that you think is alien in nature, yeah?" Martha cut to the chase, falling in step next to the Colonel as he about-faced and began to stride down the secure corridor, arms behind his back.

"We're not sure _what_ we're dealing with at this point," he confessed. "What we _do_ know is that the same phenomenon has killed fifty-two people in the Greater London area within the last five days – and the time between each attack is shortening."

Martha blinked. "_Fifty-two?_ I haven't heard anything on the news…"

Mace nodded, ushering her into a small office with what appeared to be a two-way mirror. "We've kept a complete media blackout. After all the other, shall we say, _seasonal_ incidents over the past few years, we didn't want a mass panic on our hands."

"But why _me_? You must have the best brains in the world at your disposal…"

Mace huffed as if the idea amused him. He picked up a manila folder and tossed it across his desk. "We'll come to that shortly. First, take a look at the latest victims' autopsy reports. Perhaps you might see something familiar. After all, you _are_ singularly well qualified in this field…"

Martha caught the file and flicked it open. "Because of the stuff I've seen travelling with the Doctor?" As she talked, she began to read through the medical reports and crime scene information.

The top report was about a young girl named Tracey. A small photo was paper-clipped to several pages of information.

The girl reminded Martha of a friend she'd gone to school with, but then, in these kinds of cases, you could always draw a parallel with _someone_.

"Your medical officer suggests subdural haemorrhage caused by massive intracranial pressure?" Martha looked up from the folder quizzically.

Mace sniffed. "He was being a little reserved with that description. Let's just say almost every victim so far has had portions of their 'little grey cells' turned to pulp. Not pretty…not pretty at all." He turned to look through the two-way mirror. "It's our medical department's belief that something is feeding on the electrical activity in the human brain, and it doesn't care what damage it causes to do it."

"_Almost_ every victim?" Martha flicked to a second dead girl, but her autopsy file was identical to the first.

The Colonel nodded, but didn't turn to look at Martha. Instead, he gestured through the mirror to the room beyond. "That is why I invited you here…or rather, _he_ is. When U.N.I.T. picked up the electrical disturbance created by the phenomenon, we dispatched a team to the epicentre. The two girls were beyond our help, but he was still clinging to life."

Martha stepped to the officer's side and peered through the back of the mirror. The room she looked upon was pure white, with only one doorway. In the centre lay a bed with a rather scruffy, apparently undernourished occupant.

It looked as if the man hadn't shaved for at least a week, maybe longer, but given his current condition, Martha guessed that was the lesser of his woes. "He survived the attack?"

Mace finally turned and shot her a bemused glance. "Yes, but that wasn't our most immediate concern. Take a closer look at our friend, Dr. Jones…"

Martha's right brow quirked upwards, but she leaned closer to the mirror, this time examining the man's features rather than focusing on his overall condition.

After a brief pause, her mouth opened and she shook her head. "It can't be..?"

"The _Doctor,_" The Colonel confirmed, fixing his hands behind his back again. "I thought the same when he was first brought in, except our medical officer confirms this man is human – only one heart. You can see why I insisted on your presence?"

Martha bobbed her head, acknowledging Mace, but her mind was already brimming with possible scenarios and suggestions. This wasn't _her _Doctor, but if he was human, it meant they had already met. This was the Doctor born in battle with Donna Noble.

This was the end result of a human/Time Lord Meta-Crisis, and right now, he shouldn't even be in this universe. He should be in a parallel reality with Rose Tyler.

How was it possible for him to be here when the void was sealed? Where was Rose? _Why_ was he even here? Could it be connected to the attacks?

"_Even if __**I**__ can't be here, I __**will**__ be here, one way or another…" _

The Doctor's words danced around in Martha's head. _Her_ Doctor. Had this been what he'd meant? What had he known, even then, as he'd left her behind?

"Dr. Jones?" Mace's concerned voice broke her from her thoughts. "Do you think this man could be part of some kind of alien conspiracy? Could he be working with whatever is causing the attacks? A fake Doctor of some kind left here to throw us off the scent?"

"No!" Martha's one word response was abrupt. "He might not be the Doctor you know, but we _can_ trust him – _if _he wakes." She put her palm on the glass, wishing she was in the room beyond. "He's…" She tried to choose her words carefully, needing to explain without really explaining. In the end, she realized she couldn't. "He's a _friend_," she said simply.

Mace winced at the answer, clearly not satisfied, but for now, he didn't push it further.

Martha was glad he gave her enough credit for that at least, because right now she had other things on her mind.

Just thinking about the human Doctor scared her. He wasn't the person she'd come to love, his memories of her weren't even complete, but still she sensed the bond that had carried her across so many different worlds, and through so many adventures.

He might not be _her_ Doctor, but he deserved to live.

"What was your medical officer's prognosis?" she eventually asked, letting her palm unconsciously slide away from the mirror.

"We don't know," Mace offered bluntly. "His DNA might be human, but his brainwave activity is certainly nothing like anything our specialists have ever seen. We have no benchmarks to use as a comparison. If the girls are anything to go by, we could be talking massive brain damage, though…"

"And there was definitely no-one with him?"

"Only the two dead women, and obviously, we couldn't question _them." _Mace pursed his lips and then frowned. "Our crime scene people collected any possible evidence from the alley, if you'd like to examine their findings? Anything you can help us with at this point…"

Martha took down a breath and nodded, moving away from the window, even though she hated to turn from the human version of her friend. "I'll take a look."

Mace led her back out of the office and into what she presumed was a room that adjoined 'the Doctor's'. A long table lined one wall, adorned with various evidence bags. At the end of the table was something that almost touched the ceiling. It was covered with a khaki section of tarp, but Martha didn't need to pull the cover free to know what lay beneath.

"The TARDIS?" She swiftly walked over to the deceptive blue box and tugged a key from her handbag. Slipping a hand under the canvas, she slid the key inside the only lock on the space ship's exterior.

The key was the right size, but it refused to work the tumblers within the barrel. Martha wiggled it, a look of confusion filtering across her face. Could there be two TARDIS's as well as two Doctors?

"Something wrong, Dr. Jones?" Mace was watching her intently, a small plastic bag in his right hand. "We found the ship near the alley…"

Martha shrugged noncommittally and took the bag. "No, nothing's wrong." _This just isn't the TARDIS I'm used to. _The words formed in her head, but she didn't voice them. Mace was already jittery about the new Doctor. He didn't need to know there appeared to be two time travelling police boxes as well.

She examined the evidence bag's contents without looking back up at the Colonel. Inside was one solitary earring. Nothing flash, just a ring of gold that could be bought from any jeweller's or market stall. And yet, Martha had seen earrings like this before.

Rose Tyler had a pair just like it.

"Was this close to where the victims were found?"

Mace's nose twitched like a rabbit and he checked the code on the bag. "It was near the Doctor's ship. Is it relevant?"

Martha shuddered. "It might be. I don't know yet." An image of Rose seemed to fix itself in her skull, and no matter how hard she tried to push it away, it wouldn't go.

Could Rose be in trouble or…_or_?

"How did you track the disturbances?" Martha let the bag and its contents slide back onto the table. She had bigger fish to fry. "You said you were able to dispatch a team?"

Mace grunted. "The thing sends out some kind of electromagnetic pulse. It neutralizes phones, alarms, cameras, you name it. Anything within a mile radius."

"So you'll know when the next attack is going down, yeah?" Martha was on the offensive. Her friends were involved now, and whatever she felt about U.N.I.T.'s tactics no longer mattered. "Because I want to be there…"

"We can't possibly allow a civilian…"

Martha waved a hand as if she'd already expected his retort. "Fine, I'll sign whatever you want." She reached for the door handle and then turned back as if something had occurred to her as an afterthought. "I'll be with the Doctor until you hear anything."

Mace coughed as if he was about to argue and had then had second thoughts. In the end, he simply nodded and allowed her to leave.

Outside, across from the evidence room, was another door. Martha was convinced it led to the human Doctor – especially as it had an armed guard posted either side.

As she approached, both men stood to attention and saluted as if they already respected her authority. Squinting, she realized she recognized the man on the left from the Sontaran affair at the Atmos factory.

She smiled at him and he leaned over, opening the door for her to enter.

Inside the room was just as she'd viewed it earlier from the mirror, except now she could smell the clinical aroma that lingered in hospitals and care facilities like this. The sharpness seemed to irritate her nostrils as if she was new to it.

Martha ignored the niggling sensation and pulled up the sole chair next to the sleeping Doctor.

Was he actually just sleeping, or would his injuries keep him this way forever?

She shrugged away the thought of examining the chart hanging from the end of the bed. She was here as a friend, not a physician.

As she tugged off her jacket, she realized her ears had automatically tuned themselves into the monitor the Time Lord was hooked up to. Telling herself it was just her training kicking in, she avoided looking at the beeping machine and instead looked at him.

Beneath the beard, the sharp features were just the same as she remembered them – except now there were no sparkling brown eyes peering inquisitively back at her, and he looked almost _too_ gaunt.

What had this version of her friend been through since their parting?

Feeling slightly sheepish, Martha took his limp hand and pressed it into her palm. Maybe if he knew she was here…

His skin was warm, and as their flesh touched, she could almost pretend that she felt his fingers twitch ever-so-slightly, straining to grip hers.

_Do I even know you, I mean really?_ Her mind screamed. _Or are you just a carbon copy of the real thing? A human version with no heart and soul?_

She dismissed the thought, suddenly realizing that his eyes were frenziedly moving beneath their lids.

R.E.M. sleep.

He was dreaming, but she suspected the reverie was nothing pleasant.

"It's alright," Martha whispered, squeezing the hand still entwined with hers, but her soothing tone appeared to have little effect.

He was almost thrashing suddenly, his back arching as mumbled words of despair and agony fell from his lips. She had never seen _her_ Doctor like this, and it frightened her.

"Not here, can't be here…old, so…_old_. Not Rose. _PLEASE not Rose!_"

Martha jerked backwards as the Doctor abruptly sat bolt upright in the bed, eyes wide and face drawn in a mask of anguish.

"Shush," she tried to calm him, even though her own heart was thrashing against her ribcage. "Whatever is was, it's gone. You're safe now." It felt like she was cajoling a small child, and instantly guilt hit her. He deserved more than that, whatever state the entity had left his mind in.

The Doctor didn't seem to hear her at first. He simply stared at the freshly painted wall at the end of his bed. Then, as his wounded psyche began to focus, he blinked, throat bobbing as he repeatedly swallowed.

Eventually, he looked to Martha, but there was none of the usual mirth she associated with his character. If his mind was still intact, then this version of the Doctor was in his gravely serious mode.

And that scared the hell out of Martha.

"You're safe here," she tried again.

He sighed. "Martha Jones, if I'm right…and let's face it I _usually _am…we'll _never_ be safe again…"

_Tbc…_


	2. Chapter 2

_Union of Souls_

_Chapter Two_

Martha stared at the Doctor for the longest moment, her mouth slightly askew as she tried to come to terms with his unexpected outburst. The shock of his sudden revival had been one thing, but to realize he was still just as bonkers as her Doctor to boot, took some sinking in.

Eventually, he seemed to comprehend that his old friend was a little overwhelmed, if not for the right reasons. "Oy! I know River Song called me Pretty Boy, but there's no need to overdo the old ogle, then!"

"We…we didn't know if you'd ever wake up, or _if_…" Martha found herself stammering for the first time in a long time. Talking sense to a Time Lord was never easy, but talking it to a_ human_ Time Lord felt just plain weird. Or was she just being irrational? "The things that attacked you…" She tried again.

The Doctor nodded absently as he examined his room, nose puckering at the sparse and very bland surroundings. "Tau K'mon. Nasty lot if you catch them on a bad day." He cocked his head. "_Which_…come to think of it is almost _every_ day. Grumpiest aliens I ever had the pleasure of_ not _meeting. 'Til today, of course." He thought about it. "That is, if it is still today? I suppose if I've been asleep awhile, it might be tomorrow already!"

Martha had to think about her response before she said anything. "You were attacked last night. A U.N.I.T. patrol found you along with two girls…"

The Doctor's face sobered and he began fiddling with the IV needle in his arm rather than look her in the eye. "I tried to tell them. Warned them to run, but I was too late. I'm always too late…"

The confession was unexpected. While _her_ Doctor often carried the deaths of those he couldn't save on his conscience, it was a rare thing indeed for him to talk about it so openly.

"We can't save all the people all the time," Martha offered, wondering if she dare broach the subject of Rose yet. "But maybe with your help we can make a difference. Who are these Tau K'mon? Sounds like something out of _Stargate_! Where did they come from? What do they want here?"

The Doctor brightened at the questions, obviously as keen to be in the thick of things as his alter ego.

But despite his smile, Martha suspected that he was far from happy. Did these mystery creatures behind the deaths actually _scare_ him?

"To'kra are the sluggy things in_ Stargate_," he corrected. "The Tau K'mon are much worse. An ancient race of beings from the far flung edges of the universe. They're legendary…and _well_…not in a good way."

"Older and more legendary than the Time Lords?" Martha interrupted.

He bobbed his head, surprising her. "Older than _old, _they're positively antediluvian!"

"And very scary, yeah?"

The Doctor rubbed at the beard that still seemed odd on his normally clean, angular features. "Even the Time Lords feared them," he clarified with a nod. "No-one knows where they originally came from, but it's said they once had form, substance…_being._ Then something happened, something changed all that and made them into the evil entities they are now. For years they were the scourge of the heavens, sucking away countless planets of their lifeforce….even the people of Gallifrey were susceptible…"

"Time Lords weren't even immune to them?" Martha looked taken aback, a sudden fear gripping her heart like an icy hand squeezing inside her chest.

"No, not even Gallifrey was safe…" He looked distant again as memories of his long-dead planet resurfaced deep within. "After the Tau K'mon, or 'The Wall' as they became known, had rampaged through six solar systems, the Time Lords finally managed to banish them, imprisoning them in an ark and sealing it in an empty alternate dimension. Over the years, 'The Wall' became nothing more than a story to tell misbehaving kids. Got told it once myself, _obviously. _Mind you…I _had_ just opened a dwarf quantum singularity in my physics class…never did like that teacher…"

"So, if the Time Lords banished these things millennia ago, how come they're here now, sucking peoples brains dry?"

"Looks like I'm not the only one who knows how to open up a good old black hole!" He shuddered. "Or in this case a trans-dimensional wormhole that allows energy and matter to pass through it…"

Martha took a second to think. This wasn't just a coincidence. 'The Wall' was here because of something she'd been involved in.

Yes, she'd tried to help _her_ Doctor stop it, but had The Tesla Affair really allowed these energy creatures to escape from their prison?

"I think I know how they got out," she admitted, the chill in her heart spreading through the rest of her limbs.

The human Doctor nodded as if he had already been privy to the information. "The Rift. The Schism. The huge hole zapping at the very essence of the universe like a enormous intergalactic Hoover!" he said matter-of-factly. "It's let 'The Wall' out of their ark – and Earth wasn't their first stop off."

"You _know_ about The Rift?" Martha couldn't hide the surprise in her voice. This version of the Time Lord had been left in a different dimension before those events had taken place. How could he know about them?

"My TARDIS!" He beamed. "The _other_ me…_your,_ um…me, sent her back with a recorded message inside. Left me everything I needed to know, just in case." He cocked his head, wrinkling his nose. "Which turned out not to be quite everything I needed to know, actually."

"You said Earth wasn't first?" Martha dared to ask, sitting forwards in her chair expectantly.

The Doctor's smile weakened and he seemed to deflate, slumping back to rest on his pillows. "No…Earth wasn't first," he agreed. "They destroyed the world me and Rose were on first…"

Martha tried to take it in – the vastness of the scale of destruction – a whole planet, or did he even mean a whole dimension?

"The steel world, yeah?" she finally asked, still not daring to mention the earring she'd found – not yet.

He nodded, his gaze still remote, pained. "Everything's gone there now. Not a living thing left, just empty, lifeless bodies. If it hadn't been for the TARDIS calling to me, pulling me to it with its psychic link, we'd have all died too." The Doctor swallowed, brown eyes as deep and haunted as his soul. "I followed them here, tried to stop them…but it was too late…"

Martha wanted to tell him it was never too late. That's what her Doctor would have said, wouldn't he? But the thing was, she didn't know anymore. She'd always thought there was nothing beyond a Time Lord's capabilities. To learn that Gallifrey had once feared the Tau K'mon was terrifying.

She looked at him, seeing the same despair that had filled the old Doctor's eyes as he'd left her for the very last time.

Neither of them spoke, both sensing, knowing the others thoughts. They should be friends, _were_ friends, and yet, there was something different, something not quite perceptible that held them apart.

"Wait a minute!" Martha's face lit up like she'd had a sudden and valuable revelation. "If you're totally human, how did you survive against that thing? I mean, if even Time Lords can't get zapped and live to tell the tale?"

The dull, downtrodden face brightened again and the Doctor tapped his brow with his forefinger. "'Cause I'm unique! No…wait…not just unique, I'm _amazing!_ Body of a human, consciousness of a Time Lord! My brainwave activity is just different enough to send the Tau K'mon packing..._well_…that time, at least."

"So because you're a 'one off' you confused it, right?"

"Special edition, that's me!" he agreed. "Just like a Mini with a great big whopping Ferrari engine under the bonnet!" The legendary smile began to creep back and he swung his legs out over the edge of the bed, pulling the IV from his arm with a wince.

"Oy!" Martha warned. "Where do you think you're going? You were half dead last night!"

"And I'm half alive this morning!" The Doctor snapped back cheerily. "Wouldn't half mind a spot of breakfast though!"

"Just promise me one thing?" Martha chastised. "Will you just get rid of that beard? You look like a very skinny bear."

"_Oooh_, I always was fond of Grizzly Adams…back to nature and all that. _Although_…maybe not…" He dropped down barefoot onto the lino floor and began to rigorously jog on the spot. When he realized Martha was looking at him strangely, he offered. "Just making sure all the bits still work!"

Martha smiled, but didn't say what was running through her head. _Mister, I'm so glad Jack Harkness wasn't around to hear THAT!_

Eventually, the jogging stopped and he suddenly looked almost lost. Brow furrowing he sat back on the end of the bed, grabbing his own chart and examining it. After reading the sheet three times, he tossed it down as if it hadn't given the answers he needed.

"Something wrong?" she asked. "I mean, obviously aside from the fact we've been invaded by brain sucking aliens."

The Doctor glanced up, his face shaped with an unusual expression of bewilderment. "There are pieces missing," he answered, almost confused. "Things I suddenly realized I don't have the answers to. Things I _should_ know."

Martha braced herself. This had to be the reason he hadn't questioned Rose's whereabouts – and now, maybe she would have to tell him the awful truth.

"It must be a side effect of the attack," she suggested, choosing her words with care. "Given the amount of brain damage to the other victims, I'd say that's still pretty lucky…"

He shook his head dolefully, the slight London twang to his voice becoming just that little bit stronger with his desperation. "I can't remember what happened to Rose…"

* * * *

Martha strode down the corridor, still not quite sure about the gangly Time Lord at her side. He _looked_ like her friend, but just as he'd suggested back in his room, it felt like there were 'bits missing'.

She supposed in time she'd get used to the slight underlying differences, and maybe if he got all his memories back it would help; but then, would they even live to see that day?

The Doctor stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets and looked himself up and down, appraising the blue suit she'd managed to find him. It wasn't exactly like the one he was used to, but it was close enough. His tie hung loose, and he'd thankfully shaved off the beard and spiked his hair.

"Do we really have to see Colonel Mace?" he complained as they walked by a sentry. "I mean, he _salutes_ me and_ everything_…we could be out and about looking for aliens or breakfast…_Breakfast at Tiffany's!_ That'd be good! 'Course that was New York. They had King Kong there too, you know…doubt he ate at Tiffany's, though…"

"I doubt the Colonel would allow us out without debriefing first."

The Doctor grinned and leaned closer to her ear conspiratorially. "Yeah…but I'm _really_ good with doors…and locks…and…"

Martha stopped walking and looked back towards the last guard they'd passed. Cutting out the interview with Mace would give them more time – time they desperately needed to find Rose.

On the other hand, jumping ship on U.N.I.T. at a time like this might not be the best course of action, either.

_Explaining_ all about this second Doctor, though; now that would be tricky. And Mace wouldn't wait forever.

Finally, she made a choice. "You can't sonic the doors if you don't have your screwdriver."

"_Riiiggghtttt," _he gestured forwards with his hand. "That's why you're going to point us in the direction of the TARDIS! Who needs screwdrivers when we can just fly?" He shrugged. "Waste of good Air Miles but who's counting!"

Martha shot another look at the soldier behind them. He still hadn't moved. It was like their conversation wasn't even registering with him. But she was still considered 'staff' so why should he be concerned?

She was just about to tell the Doctor they had to go back the way they'd come to get to the TARDIS when the guard moved. Holding onto his earpiece as he turned, it appeared he was receiving instructions.

"Uh oh!" The Doctor pulled that 'whoops' face he was so fond of. "I think we've been scuppered! Run for the lifeboats!" He grabbed Martha's hand and then pulled absently at one ear when he realized he hadn't a clue which way to go. "Oh well then, just _RUN!"_

Martha yanked on his arm, stopping him from dashing full pelt the wrong way down the white-walled passage. "Oy! We need to go the other way!"

His mouth opened like a coy carp at feeding time and his eyes momentarily glazed as if he couldn't quite process an answer. He looked at the soldier who was now approaching them from the direction they needed to go. "Oooh…this might be bad," he finally mouthed.

"Dr. Jones?" The soldier shot Martha a quick salute and looked warily at the Doctor, unsure if a second gesture was required.

"No salute for me, thanks," the Doctor offered helpfully. "Puts me right off my breakfast! Speaking of which, my stomach isn't half grumbling…"

"Ma'am," the soldier tried again. "Colonel Mace would like to see you in control room two right away. There's been another attack."

"Did he say where?" the Doctor interrupted, abruptly all business.

"I don't know the exact address, sir, but I can tell you it was West London. Now if you'll follow me back to the control room…" The black-clad guard adjusted his snub-nosed auto's strap on his shoulder and about-turned, expecting them to tag along.

Martha shot the Doctor a look. "We can find our own way, soldier. Best not leave your post, yeah?"

The young man looked uncertain, and for a moment Martha thought he was going to radio for confirmation. Instead, he saluted again and repositioned himself at the intersection of two corridors.

When they were out of earshot, the Doctor looked over his shoulder. "Blimey! When did you get to be so bossy?"

"Travelling with you," she shot back, forgetting that she hadn't actually travelled with this version of the Time Lord at all yet. "Now c'mon, the TARDIS is back this way." She dodged by the room he'd been confined in and into the storage area that contained all the evidence from 'The Wall's' attacks. "Just how do we know where to go? West London is a big area."

"I'll tap into U.N.I.T.'s monitoring equipment with the TARDIS before we leave and reroute their feeds to my control console!" He jogged over to the tarp and pulled it free. Rubbing a hand affectionately over the blue wooden police box, he pulled a key out of his pocket and slipped it into the door lock.

The tumblers clicked and the door swung open with a creak.

"Where did you get that key?"

He grinned. "Time Lord magic…"

Martha was inclined to believe him. Mace had informed her they'd found nothing in the clothes the Doctor had been wearing when they'd brought him in, and the key she still had in her purse didn't work, even if he had been able to steal it. "I thought you could do the whole 'Hey Presto' click your fingers thing now, anyway?"

He shrugged and ducked inside. "Must be the amnesia! Forgot how! _Oooh_…lots of room in 'ere!"

Martha watched him dance around the time ship as if he'd never seen the inside of it before. She crossed her arms. "Yeah, it's err, bigger on the inside." Was he teasing, or had the Tau K'mon's attack really wiped so much from his mind?

Spotting his long brown overcoat hanging from one of the support beams, he rushed over and grabbed it. "Brilliant! Oh, I've really, _really_, _REALLY_ missed this coat." He slipped it on, and then began rubbing his hands together gleefully. "Right then, Martha Jones! Time to nick a bit of information before we leg it!"

Suddenly, Martha felt guilty.

The Doctor knew Rose was missing, but he didn't know that she'd been in the alleyway with him at the time of the attack – which the earring seemed to suggest. Could she afford not to give him even the tiniest piece of information?

"Wait. There's something you should know…"

"Big something? Little something? _Useful_ something?"

Martha slipped out of the TARDIS' door and retrieved the evidence bag from the table. The little gold ring seemed to shine under the overhead fluorescents as she looked at it.

Fingering the earring through the bag, she stepped back into the police box to find the Doctor waiting patiently for her. "_Close_ something, then," he acknowledged, sliding on his thick-rimmed glasses to examine the bag's contents.

"Mace's people found it near the TARDIS, back in the alleyway where…"

"It's Rose's…" The Doctor pulled his glasses back off and slumped down onto the slightly threadbare console chair.

"Look, we didn't find a body. She still could be out there somewhere. That's why we have to find these Tau K'mon, find out what they're doing." Martha's voice was pleading now. She could see his eyes turning distant again – lonely.

He was giving in.

"Right, mister, no feeling sorry for yourself!" She pointed at the monitor that had whirling glyphs and cogs flashing across its width, raising her voice in the hope he'd listen. "We have a job to do, remember? And besides, what kind of a Time Lord are you anyway, sitting there looking glum instead of saving the planet?"

The Doctor leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he began tapping keys. "A _human_ one?" he offered with a quirky expression. "A forgetful one? No _wait_…how about an ingenious but vaguely barmy one?"

"I'll definitely go with the barmy," Martha agreed. "But right now we need the genius side, yeah?"

The Doctor unconsciously slid his glasses on again as if they increased his mental ability. Continuing to work the console keys with his fingers, his eyes darted from corner to corner of the monitor as if he could read faster than the TARDIS could provide the stolen data.

"Oh I don't like the look of this…total electronics blackout for a mile outside the epicentre…some kind of EMP taking out the whole housing estate and…" he stepped back from the console, rapidly brushing his hand through his spiked hair, throat bobbing in shock. "No…_no…NO_…can't be…not there, not now…"

"What?" Martha tried to read what was on the screen, but to her it was just a jumble of numbers and Gallifreyan symbols. Why the TARDIS didn't translate that as well as everything else it encountered was a mystery.

Unless, of course, the eccentric machine liked to keep some privacy for its master.

The Doctor swallowed. "The street where the latest attack took place? It's where Donna lives…"

"Our Donna, Donna Noble?" Martha couldn't quite take it in. Why would the Tau K'mon 'Wall' target a temp from Chiswick? There was no way it could know of her connection to the Doctor – even Donna didn't know it anymore.

"First Rose, now Donna…" The Doctor looked at Martha desolately. "It's me…has to be. You should go. It's not safe to be near me." He began moving around the central controls, pushing buttons and adjusting settings. "Back in the alley they must have read my mind somehow…used the electrical field they create to form a synaptic bridge... If they know half of what I know…"

As he worked, the time rotor began to glow a brighter shade of emerald and the little ship started to rasp as it powered up.

"Leave you to get zapped by that thing again, you mean? No way. I'm coming with you, we're gonna find Rose and Donna, save the planet and then…and then we'll _all_ have breakfast at Tiffany's."

The Doctor's face broke into a small smile. "That might work…_although_…always preferred _Notting Grill _myself…oh wait, maybe that was a film with Hugh Grant…? Always liked Hugh Grant…he'd have made a _brilliant_ Time Lord…" He paused staring blankly at the console suddenly. "Don't suppose you know how we actually fly this thing do you?"

"_Seriously_?" Martha didn't know whether to break into blind panic or genuinely try to help. "You don't remember any of this stuff?"

There was a beat and his features broke into the largest grin his facial muscles were capable of. "'Coarse I remember how to fly! Like riding a bike this is…mind you, was always a bit wibbly wobbly with anything less than three wheels…"

He push the thing that resembled a bicycle pump up and down vigorously, continuing to fire up the TARDIS until it was wheezing its way through time and space in search of the Tau K'mon.

"Well, just as long as _you_ remember," Martha warned. "Because there's something else you need to know. Even if we find her, Donna won't remember _us_…"

The Doctor stopped pressing the pump. "What…_what_?" He scowled, one brow raised high in confusion.

Behind him, the time rotor roared on obliviously.

And now, as if losing one friend, maybe even one love wasn't enough, Martha had the heart-wrenching task of explaining to the Doctor why his 'birth' had almost heralded the death of one Donna Noble.

_Tbc…_


	3. Chapter 3

_Union of Souls_

_Chapter Three_

_Chiswick, London_

Martha followed the Doctor in silence as he padded along the familiar section of suburbia, wondering how long it would be before he actually spoke.

He'd been strangely quiet after she'd explained how his alter ego had been forced to wipe Donna's memory. From his expression, it was obvious he felt to blame, even though he couldn't help the way he'd been created.

A light breeze ruffled his hair and Martha was reminded of just how much she'd once loved this man – still did if she was honest – and yet, she'd never be able to stop his suffering.

It was the bane of the Time Lords.

She knew that.

All the Doctor's companions knew, and she suspected it broke their hearts just as much as it did the roving Gallifreyan's.

"Too quiet for a big gob, then?" The Doctor suddenly paused and looked at Martha questioningly. "Me, I mean," he added. "I'm doing your head in because I'm not saying much, 'cause, well…I _never DON'T _say much…"

Martha smiled. "You're just worrying about Rose and Donna…" She shifted a little uncomfortably. "Rose's family…her mum, dad, brother?"

"Oh_ right_…" The Doctor's pensive expression relaxed a little and he turned, hands in pockets as usual. "Left them on the lost moon of Poosh…_although,_ strictly speaking it's not lost anymore. But _anyway_…left them there until I knew the coast was clear down 'ere. Rose wasn't having any of that, though…"

"I wouldn't expect she was," Martha said offhandedly. If there was one thing you could rely on, it was Rose Tyler's tenacity not to let her man down. The whole 'Bad Wolf' thing had proved that. "So, you two came down here and expected to fight this 'Wall' on your own, yeah?"

"Well I wasn't expecting the cavalry if that's what you mean. And your mate Mace's first solution is always to pull a gun. Like a silly old bullet is going to stop a writhing wall of elctroplasmic energy!"

"So how long did you track the thing before, you know? You got zapped?" Martha shuddered as the zephyr that had swept at the Doctor's hair grew stronger, colder, wrapping around her as if it had a life of its own.

"Oh a few days," he said casually, looking up at the sky as if some unseen, unheard warning chime was pealing through the heavens. "Or was it a few weeks? Memory's still a bit hit and miss." He tapped his skull as if he could dislodge some random neurons, bringing back the hidden recollections.

"From the looks of the beard you had, definitely more than a few days," Martha concluded as she began to walk again, heading for a crowd that seemed to have formed in the middle of the road.

"_Oy!_ I was too busy using my noodle to try and save the planet. No time to whisk off a few whiskers!" The Doctor shrugged and followed. "Besides, you know, it's considered rude not to have facial hair on Tarsus Major, even for the women!"

"_So_ not going there…"

Martha reached the back of the gathering and realized she wasn't going to be able to push through with sheer curiosity. These people were scared, and they wanted answers from the soldiers now cordoning off their once peaceful street.

Reaching inside her jacket, she pulled out the temporary I.D. card she'd been given by Mace and held it aloft.

She cleared her throat. "Official business, I need to get through here, please!"

Several members of the group looked at her like she'd spoken a different language. One young man sneered and held out both arms, deliberately blocking her path forwards.

"I'm here to try and help you people!"

The milling mass didn't appear impressed and seemed to actually form into a tighter pack.

Behind them, a single gunshot reverberated through the estate as one of the U.N.I.T. soldiers on guard finally realized what was happening.

The locals eventually split down the centre, like the Red Sea being parted by some biblical liberator.

The soldier shot off a quick salute. "Dr Jones, ma'am, if you'd like to step this way?"

Martha nodded, smiling back at the sergeant as he ushered her and the Doctor beyond a temporary metal barrier that cordoned off at least ten houses.

It was amazing how many U.N.I.T. staff still recognized her, and Martha realized she could use that to her advantage.

The Doctor didn't quite share her enthusiasm. As they walked beyond the blockade, he leaned forwards, whispering in her ear. "See what I mean? Give this lot a gun and they just _can't wait_ to play cowboys and Indians!"

Before she could stop the words coming out of her mouth, Martha had snapped back a response she would never forgive herself for. "Like you thought about that when you took out the entire Dalek nation? Genocide is a bit more than gung ho humans playing with their big boys' toys…"

The Doctor didn't answer right away, but he shrank back as if she'd slapped him in the face. Eventually, as they approached Donna's house, he answered, his voice cracking.

"I can't change that. But I won't let that one moment define me. I'm better than that. _Rose_ has made me _better_ than that."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" It occurred to Martha that she'd said enough.

_Done_ enough damage.

She hadn't _really_ meant those words, but with every passing moment she couldn't shake the feeling that this just wasn't her Doctor.

_But he could be, one day, with your help,_ she told herself. He could be _her _Doctor and more because he had a distinct human side. _He doesn't need me, though, he needs Rose…_

"No." he looked at her softly now, big brown eyes latching onto hers with the most tender, calmest expression she'd ever seen. "I'm the one who should be sorry…"

"Get your hands off me! This is government bullying this is! And what have you done with my Donna? Just you wait till my Sylvia gets home…"

The Doctor's left brow ticked up, and he stepped past the sergeant and over the threshold into the Nobles' house.

Wilf was standing in the lounge, trying to pull his arm away from one of two U.N.I.T. soldiers as they tried to escort him outside. At the sight of the Doctor, he stopped protesting and used his free arm to give a little salute.

For once, the Doctor didn't complain about the gesture. "Hello!" He offered, grinning broadly. "What's going on here then?"

"They're trying to take me from my own home, they are!" Wilf complained, looking at the soldiers distastefully. "I told 'em I won't go! Not with my Donna missing." His gaze softened a little. "Is she with you, Doctor?" He asked hopefully.

The soldier on the right let go of Wilf and stepped forward, reaffirming his grasp on the automatic hanging from his shoulder strap. "This area is out of bounds," he began.

Martha flashed her I.D. again. "Not to us it isn't. Colonel Mace sent us," she lied, just a little. "You can leave us with Mr. Mott now…"

Both military men looked wary but did as they were told, marching from the lounge to take up sentry duty at the front door.

"Now then," The Doctor took Wilf by the shoulders and sat him in his favourite chair. "I think you better tell us what happened here right from the start." He took a second to glance up at Martha. "Put the kettle on, I think we might all be needing a good strong brew before the afternoon is through…"

_* * * *_

Wilf took a sip from the steaming mug of tea he'd been handed and shook his head. From the pale complexion of his skin and the wideness of his eyes, Martha suspected he was still in shock from whatever he'd been forced to witness.

She hoped it wasn't his granddaughter's demise.

"_Sooooo_…." The Doctor gently prompted. "What happened here? I mean, with Donna?"

Wilf swallowed hard and he looked through the window out onto the street. The crowd there was growing as word spread that the military had cordoned off the neighbourhood.

"I was orderin' a spot of shopping online from the local Tesco and Donna was upstairs. Been out to the pub with a few mates last night and she was still sleeping it off…"

"Something came into the house didn't it?" The Doctor suggested.

Wilf nodded, eyes going distant, white-grey whiskers twitching nervously. "Computer went off first," he explained. "Then the telly…then suddenly _it_ was in the hallway, crackling, sparking its way towards the stairs…"

"The Wall," Martha mouthed.

"I didn't know what to do," Wilf admitted. "It was like lightning only inside the house, and it was headed for my Donna! I shouted for her to wake up, but you know what she's like when she's sleeping…"

This time it was the Doctor's turn to bob his head. "Do I!" he admitted. "Donna Noble, the only person to sleep through the Sycorax and scuba dive through a Cyberman invasion! Sleeps like a baby and misses the un-missable!"

Wilf grunted. "She was never quiet as a baby, trust me. Our Donna can be a bit…"

"Um…_loud_? I hadn't noticed," The Doctor teased. "_Anyway_…the big, nasty sparkly thing in the hallway, it went upstairs then?"

"Yeah, like it knew exactly where it was going. By the time I'd got up there it was hovering around Donna's bed. I tried to wake her, I really did…"

"And then what?" Martha asked as kindly as she dared, hoping the story didn't end like it had in several other London locations.

Wilf clicked his fingers together, eyes beginning to tear up at the memory. "Poof, she was gone, just like that! Just like in one of those spacemen movies." He fixed on the Doctor. "Is that who's taken my Donna? It's them aliens isn't it?" He sniffed a little, eventually having to pull a hanky from his ragged cardigan's pocket. "Is she gonna be alright, Doctor?"

Martha watched the Doctor's reaction. This version hadn't even known Wilfred Mott – only from memories he'd inherited.

And Wilf, well Wilf had no clue the man he was begging had never met him before.

The situation seemed insane, unworkable, and yet here they were, trying to save the planet, Donna, Rose, everyone.

"I'll bring her back." The Doctor put a hand on the old man's shaking arm. "I promise…"

At first, Martha thought he was making empty guarantees, but then, as he turned, she saw actual hope in those oh so dark eyes.

"I think the Tau K'mon are using some of the energy they're bleeding from humans to power spatial matter transferences. Electrical energy breaking down a body at a cellular level and forcing it through space like a big old cheese grater…"

Martha grimaced, not appreciating the simile. "Just tell me they're putting the cheese back into shape the other end like a _Star Trek_ transporter, yeah?"

"Oh _yes_! Simple reversal of the energy field and a few other little tweaks, and BAM! Humpty's back together again! The Doctor bounded to the front door and frowned as an army helicopter buzzed overhead.

Martha joined him. "So Donna and Rose?"

The Doctor grinned, but didn't take his concentration from the chopper as it made another pass. "Rose is alive…Donna too…"

Martha could hear the relief in his abrupt change of tone. It was easy that way with the Doctor.

Even_ this_ Doctor.

What was less obvious was why he'd chosen this moment to examine a seemingly harmless helicopter. "What is it?" she prompted, squinting at the olive drab Lynx in curiosity as it zoomed overhead.

He licked a finger, holding it aloft with a deep frown. "Something's wrong….something's very, very, _very _wrong…"

_Roald __Dahl Plass, Wales_

_Torchwood Hub _

Jack Harkness sat at his desk, eyes scanning over a recent report from U.N.I.T. While the two agencies didn't exactly see eye-to-eye, sometimes it was in both their interests to share information.

This time, Jack was wishing they hadn't.

A spate of deaths in the London area by some unknown entity was one thing, but the fact that the phenomenon was growing day by day was another. It had all the signs of some kind of covert alien invasion, and even he didn't know how to handle it.

While his own immortality meant he had nothing to fear, he knew there were millions of others less fortunate. And right now, he had no answers that might help. He'd never seen anything like the mysterious entity before, and so far, Gwen and Ianto hadn't been able to come up with anything either.

It was times like these when he missed the medical expertise of Owen and the sheer brilliance of Tosh.

Without them, the only other people he would usually turn to were Martha Jones or the Doctor, but the latter seemed to have been missing for months, and U.N.I.T. had already re-recruited Miss Jones.

Jack sighed and pushed up from his desk. Maybe a trip to London to see the evidence firsthand would help.

"Jack…I think you should take a look at this!" The urgency in Gwen's voice made the former Time Agent forget London and jog over to the computer console where the girl was furiously tapping at the keypad. "Something's happening to The Rift…some kind of energy anomaly attaching itself to the wormhole…"

Jack moved Gwen aside wordlessly and began taking in the data. As he watched, The Rift began to open and _something _began to slowly channel through its centre. "What the…" He glanced over his shoulder. "Ianto, are you getting any of this?"

Standing at a secondary console, Ianto nodded. "Whatever is coming through seems to be made of pure energy…and, Jack? It's heading our way…" He hit enter, sending the feed over to Jack's monitor.

"This looks like the same kind of thing that's been attacking those people in London. But why here? Why now? And how the hell are these things manipulating The Rift?"

The simulation of particles being drawn through a vortex on the screen abruptly changed to a view of inside The Hub and a klaxon began to sound. Around them, emergency lighting suddenly kicked in as the facility's power began to be inexplicably shut down.

"EMP!" Jack exclaimed as one by one the computer systems began to spark out and die. "Ianto, hit the Time Lock before that thing gets in here!"

Ianto dodged to a still-working console, hitting several emergency overrides to initiate the Time Lock Tosh had installed before her death. It had saved them against the Daleks, maybe it would work again.

As he punched in the last password, The Hub's huge, cog-like door grumbled open even though its power supply had already gone.

"Bloody Hell, Jack!" Gwen reached for a weapon, not quite realizing that bullets would pass right through what was about to attack. "They're using the energy they're formed from to power our systems!"

The door clanged fully open and outside a mass of energy pulsed and throbbed, hissing out waves of sparks and white hot spikes of electricity.

"Ianto, _the Time Lock_!" Jack didn't take his eyes from the thing. He couldn't. It was rolling towards them like a bank of energy, hell bent on domination and death.

"I've done all I can! The system's down!"

To prove it, even the emergency lighting popped and then dulled until The Hub was dropped into utter blackness. Only the brilliance from the 'Wall' remained, illuminating the scene.

Jack could see Gwen's expression turn blank with fear and fascination as the energy being enraptured her.

Light from the plethora of blue-white sparks played across her face and she was compelled to step forward, almost wanting to join the thing, to become one with it, even though she feared it.

"Gwen no!" Jack grabbed her arm, snapping her back around to face him instead of the entity. He didn't care if he bruised her, it was better than the alternative.

Behind them, some redundant system shielded from the EMP suddenly kicked in, and the air in front of them abruptly exploded as the Time Lock trapped them in a bubble out of phase with the rest of the planet.

Jack blinked, biting back the flare as it blinded him for a second. Fighting off the temporary lack of sight, he realized that Tosh's ultimate security protocol had one flaw.

The entity had been halfway into The Hub when the program had kicked in, and instead of being repelled backwards, it had literally been sliced in two. One half of the phenomenon now lay beyond their existence, but one portion was still with them, writhing and sputtering as it regained its alien composure.

"It's like a bloody worm!" Gwen noted. "Chop its head off, see, and it carries on!"

"Just don't let this particular worm touch you," Jack warned, stepping in front of both his friends protectively.

"Well, it's not like we can exactly hide from it," Ianto retorted.

Jack watched the thing. It still seemed disorientated from being severed from the main body. Maybe that could work to his advantage. Maybe, just maybe, he could drain it, like it drained humans.

Maybe.

"Just get as far away from that thing as you can and I'll take care of the rest."

"Great plan, that." Gwen frowned, looking around the gloom. "But it's not like we can actually _see_ where we're going, even if we had somewhere to go!"

Jack winced, thinking that the statement sounded just like something the Doctor would say. Where was he now? "Just move!" he eventually snapped, hoping the edge to his voice would jar Gwen into action.

It didn't, but Ianto grabbed her anyway, pulling her backwards until their forms were at least hidden by the darkness and elongated shadows peppering The Hub.

How long would that save them for if his plan didn't work?

Jack stepped gingerly towards the flaring creature, trying not to think about his friends or their possible deaths. There would be no more fatalities at Torchwood, he wouldn't allow it.

"Alright, Sparky, come and get it…If you know me, you know I'll try _anything_ once…" He winked at the thing teasingly, subconsciously sensing Ianto scowling at him.

The 'Wall' writhed, new colours washing over the pulsing veins of electricity that formed it. Somehow, it understood his words, and it was wary.

It cracked and popped, decisions being made at some indistinct level of its combined alien consciousness.

Eventually it moved, its swift and unexpected motion surprising Jack enough to make him pause mid-step.

The hesitation was enough, it was what the thing wanted and had achieved.

Enveloping Jack in its being, it began to suck, to feed from his very lifeforce.

Jack didn't fight it. In fact, he welcomed the thing's feeding frenzy.

Just how much of him could it take before it realized he was the master of this confrontation? _He_ was the one who could not be destroyed?

A halo of sparks erupted over the ex-Time Agent's head, spikes of current flared from his fingertips and discharged harmlessly across the room – but still he wouldn't give in – and neither would his enemy.

To Jack, the confrontation seemed to last for hours as the thing probed him, attacked him, _fed_ on him, trying to find a chink in his immortal armour.

With each new assault from its agonizing tendrils, he grew weaker. Only once before had he been so sapped of his strength - and that had been during his encounter with Abaddon.

The 'Wall' seemed to sense his sudden fear, and mistook it, because if Jack really was afraid, it wasn't for himself, but for Ianto and Gwen if he failed.

The creature attacked again, this time at Jack's mind instead of his body. He screamed out as its electrical tentacles delved into the depths of his psyche, wanting, needing.

And then it found what it was looking for.

An overload of rapid imagery filled his brain as Jack recalled his death at the hands of the Daleks, his reanimation at the hands of Rose…and finally...

The Doctor.

The final image instigated a new burst of fury from the 'Wall', a primal scream that sent Jack's body sprawling across the pitch-black Hub like he'd been hit by a bolt of lightning.

His back slammed into a console and he slithered downwards until he was nothing more than a heap in the cascading shadows. He didn't move.

He didn't breathe.

The 'Wall' crackled its approval and moved on, searching, scouring the gloom for more flesh to burn, more mental energy to absorb.

More _humans_ to kill; because the Doctor loved them so.

* * *

"Like what?" Martha exclaimed, frowning as the Doctor shielded his eyes, looking to the heavens.

Instead of answering, he stuffed a hand rapidly in his pocket, pulled out the sonic and waved it around manically, blue tip glowing as he apparently scanned the ether and beyond.

"Knew it!" he shouted, grabbing Martha and pushing her back towards the entrance. "'Nother EMP! That helicopter is about to take a swan dive right onto this street!"

Martha ignored his attempts to protect her and scrambled back out of the doorway to see him scooting out into the middle of the road.

There was no time for psychic paper or crafty tongue-work, so he was simply waving his hands in the air and politely telling the soldiers and locals to 'leg it!'

The mad behaviour wasn't quite working to plan, and one of the U.N.I.T. men grabbed the Doctor's arm, intent on restraining him.

"Oy! Watch the suit!" The Doctor whirled on the spot, lithely stepping out of the soldier's grasp and pointing skywards. "Will you just MOVE or run, _or scarper!!!"_

Finally, someone amongst the throng of people looked up and saw the Lynx stalling in mid-flight.

Silence overcame the masses, and the sputtering helicopter's engine filled in the gap.

Still, no one moved. It was as if the realization the Doctor was right had transfixed them all.

The Doctor shook his head, convinced that sometimes humans could be stupid. _Really _stupid. Then the realization hit that he too was human and he pulled out the sonic again, targeting the falling helicopter.

"Can't you _do_ something?" Martha yelled, skidding to a halt at his side.

"_I'm trying_," he snapped back, whirling settings on his screwdriver until the Lynx's freefall seemed to slow. "Gotcha!"

Martha wasn't impressed. "Erm, it's _still _gonna crash!"

The Doctor shrugged. "_Moderately_ crash as opposed to shattered to smithereens crash. Best I could do!" He bounded back in front of the crowd. "Right you lot, allons-y!!!!"

This time, for some bizarre reason – possibly the helicopter about to fall on their heads – the group moved, breaking and scattering across the street to hide in gardens, porches or other areas of possible cover.

The Doctor nodded his approval and then took Martha's forearm, quickly depositing her over a small garden hedge before following himself.

As the pair hit a well-kept lawn with a double thud, the ground shook beneath them like a 6.9 on the Richter Scale had just hit Chiswick. The lawn seemed to move and vibrate, its movement matching the sounds of metal crumpling and glass shattering.

Debris filled the air, bolts and segments of painted steel clattering around them like techno-rain.

The Doctor shook a smouldering piece of wreckage from his hair and sprang to his feet, head popping over the thorny hedge like a hyperactive jack-in-a-box.

He winced, but didn't attempt to move, first scanning the downed aircraft with the tip of the sonic. "_Riiight_….sneaky, _very _sneaky…."

With relief, he noted movement in the crushed cockpit. The pilot and co-pilot both appeared to be breathing, and the nearest man was trying to move – albeit sluggishly.

Martha bobbed up beside him and scowled, a sudden look of disgust flushing her features.

He didn't need her to say a word to know what she was thinking. People were hurt, maybe even dying, and he hadn't made a move to try and help them.

U.N.I.T. soldiers who had hid with the rest of the locals were now reappearing on the street, some heading for their fallen comrades, others trying to calm householders or radio in for assistance.

And amidst all that carnage, the Doctor simply stood behind the prickly little bush, screwdriver in hand.

"You're not him," Martha finally growled through clenched teeth. "You might _look_ like him, but you'll never _be_ him. What's wrong with you? People are _hurt_, yeah, and you just stand there gaping like a school kid!"

She shook her head and jumped back over the shrubbery, making a dive towards the injured men in the helicopter.

The Doctor ignored the second jibe of the day and ran after her, All Stars wading through a slick of aviation fluid draining from the Lynx.

"Martha no!" he pleaded, hand outstretched as he tried to catch up. "You don't get it! This wasn't an accident, _it's a trap_! You know, ambush, trick, walk into a great big ball of energy that fries your brains out before you know it _TRAP_!"

He saw Martha hesitate at his words, stumble even as she reached the helicopter. He felt her pain at seeing the injured, blood-covered men and not be able to help them.

But most of all, he felt his own single heart skip a beat as a blinding wall of energy appeared from nowhere, blocking off his friend's path to the chopper.

There was no point in calling her name again, no point in running anymore.

Martha turned in time for her eyes to lock with his and he saw understanding and forgiveness there. She had mistrusted him and now she would pay the price.

She opened her mouth, but had no time to offer an apology or even a scream of terror.

The 'Wall' shot forward with such speed it was as if it could transcend time. Within a nanosecond, it had ensnared her, holding her prisoner in the clutches of its energy matrix.

Martha's wide eyes stared, but were unable to move, unable to blink, cry or rotate unless the 'Wall' commanded it.

And now, like every cell in her body, Martha Jones was at the mercy of the alien thing.

And it was hungry.

The Doctor didn't back away, but instead stepped in front of the 'Wall' until he could almost reach out and touch it. His face was a mask of fury, of aggression he hadn't shown since he'd destroyed the Daleks – but this time, aggression he could and would control.

And his voice, his voice was as low and as deep as a yawning chasm in the deepest pits of the ocean.

"I'm _the Doctor_," he snarled like a nine-hundred-year-old. "Now, you might not know _me,_ but I know _you. _And trust me_, you_ just made it personal…"

Tbc…


	4. Chapter 4

_Union of Souls_

_Chapter Four_

The patterns in the sputtering wall of energy seemed to fluctuate as it converted the English language into electrical impulses and then assimilated them.

It was the nearest thing to thinking the Tau K'mon could do.

As it considered its next move, Martha was kept frozen in its grip and the Doctor was forced to witness the blind look of terror on her paralyzed features.

He didn't say anything more, allowing the 'Wall' to believe his words were empty, when in fact his mind was working overtime to find a solution before it was too late.

With every passing moment, he gave the creature time to use its technology to escape, just as it had with Donna. Why it hadn't chosen to do so already was a mystery.

_Unless…_

"Unless you've got to recharge those organic battery cells of yours before you can clear off!" The Doctor slapped a hand to his forehead and bounded back over the garden hedge as if the flowerbeds could somehow give him answers.

And this time, in a way, they actually could.

Retracing his fall, he rolled onto the lawn, looking around frantically for the hose he'd seen there. It had been feeding a small sprinkler system, but with one good yank, he had the attachment off and was holding a gushing pipe that bled water profusely.

"Molto Bene!"

Without actually checking how long the hose was, he was back over the hedge and pointing it at the 'Wall' like he'd had full fire service training.

The phenomenon seemed to back up just a touch, and the waves of power ebbing across its surface appeared to change colour like a chameleon trying to hide from a predator.

Amazingly, a sound began to emanate from creature. At first, it was nothing more than a garbled groan of badly constructed waveforms, but as the Doctor strained to listen, the audio patterns began to converge and take shape into something more recognizable.

"W…we are …not afraid…of w…ater…" A gurgling laugh followed the statement.

The Doctor pursed his lips. "_Ooooh_, silly me." He brought the sonic up in his left hand. "Forgot to add the magic ingredient!" Jabbing at the screwdriver's controls, he pointed it at the centre of the 'Wall' and hit the exact same spot with the jet of liquid from the hosepipe.

The creature screamed, not in pain, but in blind fury.

Having little choice, it retracted its electrical tentacles, allowing Martha to fall free onto the tarmac as it retreated behind the downed helicopter.

The Doctor heard Martha grunt as she tumbled into the middle of the road, but he didn't baulk, instead continuing forwards after his foe, water gushing everywhere.

Some of the U.N.I.T. soldiers appeared to have realized what was happening and joined in the chase, emptying clip after clip of ammunition into the heart of the writhing mass.

Now, though, the 'Wall' seemed suddenly impervious to the water, the sonic, and the troops' weapons. It hissed steam from its exterior and groaned out one last warning. "Die…_with me_…"

And then, in a flash of brilliant yellow light, it was gone.

"Alright, _alright_…you can stop now!" The Doctor waved his arms at one of the soldiers who appeared not to have realized he was now shooting at thin air.

Eventually, the black-clad trooper took his finger from the trigger, face reddening in embarrassment at his over-zealous behaviour. "Sorry, sir."

The Doctor turned on his heels, ignoring any further apologies. There was work to do, people to still save, and…_where _had he parked the TARDIS again?

Muttering about the quality of his short-term memory, he darted back around to the Lynx's cabin where Martha was already attempting to tend the injured crew.

"I'm um…sorry about what I said back there," she offered, the soft edge to her voice expressing more than simple words could ever say.

"_Everyone's_ apologizing," The Doctor mumbled, one brow furrowing. "Isn't that usually my job?" He didn't wait for a response, but poked his head further into the crumpled aircraft.

The metal edges of the pilot's door were gnarled and crushed, but there was still enough room for him to lend a hand if Martha needed it. She'd apparently scrambled inside via the rear sliding door and was now perched behind a young lieutenant who was slipping in and out of consciousness.

"Put pressure here, yeah?"

The Doctor bobbed his head, holding a field dressing over a wound to the pilot's arm while Martha crawled further inside to tend to the co-pilot with the first aid kit she'd nabbed from the back of the Lynx.

"So how come that thing was so easy to defeat?" Martha asked as she checked the second man over. "I mean, if you can just spray it with water, how come your lot were so scared of it?"

"_Well…_it's not like you can just chuck a bucket of H2O at it." The Doctor squirmed, popping his head back outside the chopper. Something was making his Time Lord senses tingle, but he couldn't quite fathom what. "You see, the Tau K'mon have an energy matrix surrounding them that can adapt…I disrupted it with my sonic using a resonation pattern so the water would fry their synapses, but um…you _really_ have to know the new frequency every time or its like shooting a water pistol at a Jeruvian Bull…and trust me, you don't want to do that. Tried it once at a stag party…"

Martha stopped prodding her patient, her eyes narrowing. "So you're saying the 'Wall' has a shield that changes every time anyone tries to harm it? Like a virus that alters to suit its environment?"

The Doctor sniffed. "Right…except this is more of an oscillating energy pattern with over two point seven million variations." He scratched his head. "Or is it seven point two…?"

Martha wasn't impressed. "So how did you know which setting to use to free me?" She began to gently take off the co-pilot's harness ready to move him, but her eyes remained on the Doctor. "You guessed, didn't you? I was hanging in some huge flippin' electrical webbing, and _you guessed _out of _how many _possibilities?"

"'Course I didn't guess! I made a logical assumption based on mathematical probabilities using the information collated by the Time Lords during various other encounters with the Tau K'mon!"

"You _guessed!"_

He grinned childishly. "Aww…well, who else do you know who could _guess _that _brilliantly_?"

Martha gave in. "So the chances of you doing that again and it working are…?"

"About as good as avoiding Jeruvian bulls at stag parties," he admitted, rubbing the bottom of his back as a not-so-fun memory flashed through his mind. "Still…not to worry! There's always plan B…" He paused again, sniffing the air. "Something's still not right here…"

Martha leaned forward across the groaning co-pilot and was about to usher one of the U.N.I.T soldiers over to give her a hand when the Doctor stiffened, his head jerking to something along the fuselage of the Lynx.

"Martha, get them out! Get them out, _NOW!"_

Leaving the pilot to his friend, he sprang away from the cabin, bounding along the side of the chopper until he was level with the engine.

Several metal plates had burst from their positions on impact and were hanging limp, and inside some of the electrical components were sparking and hissing as something shorted out.

Directly below the loose panel work was the ever-growing pool of aviation fuel the Doctor had padded through earlier. His All Stars were soaked in it, but that was the least of his concerns.

Grabbing the bent panelling, he pulled himself up to look inside the compartment. There was nothing he could use his sonic on to stop the short. What he needed now was an extinguisher or Martha and the two airmen were going to burn.

_Burn… _

The deep scarlet flames of a world in chaos ripped through his psyche as he leapt back down, splashing into the puddle of fuel.

_Burn like a sun… _

The Doctor ignored the wetness of his feet and the niggling fact that he didn't have enough time to run to the TARDIS and back for an extinguisher. He ignored the memories of his friends, of his family, of his world as everything exploded and…

_Burn like Gallifrey…_

The Doctor reached the TARDIS and yanked open the door. He always kept an extinguisher in here because of his 'little console accidents' that tended to happen more often than not.

Diving to his left, he scooped up the extinguisher and turned tail. If he had ever sprinted faster, he couldn't remember when.

And all that he could think of as he ran was just how much he hated fire. Hated the fury of its destructive path, hated how it always took away the things he loved.

He skidded in the aviation fuel and almost fell flat on his face. Despite his sometimes clumsy approach, however, the Doctor was far more adroit than he appeared.

Reaffirming his footing, he dared to check on Martha's progress before attacking the still-hissing compartment.

The pilot was already out of the cockpit and had been carried to a safe distance by two soldiers. The co-pilot, though... well, he was a different story.

Martha and another U.N.I.T. operative were still trying to pry him from the wreckage, and from the angle at which his leg was bent it was surely broken.

"Right then!" The Doctor whirled. "Time for a bit of the old Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew…_always_ liked a bit of_ Trumpton_…or was it _Camberwick Green?_ Hmmn, maybe I should just stick with _Fireman Sam_…" He pulled away the safety clip on the extinguisher and aimed the nozzle at the sparking avionics.

Dry powder burst from the tip, engulfing the compartment and surrounding area with expellant. The Doctor coughed and waved a hand in front of his face, eager to see if the risk of fire had been contained.

As he peered through the smog, though, it became clear the short was a tenacious devil that fully intended growing into an inferno of grand proportions if it got the chance.

He pressed the trigger again, emptying the cylinder into the engine bay. Not wanting to take any risks, he tossed down the expended extinguisher and yanked off his long brown jacket, stuffing it over the top of the sparking wiring to try and smother it further until he could remove its power source.

"Ha, human fire blanket!" He frowned at his own handiwork and then brought the sonic back out. Quickly tracing the route of the power fuelling the sparks, he dived inside the rear of the Lynx just as Martha and the soldier got the co-pilot free.

The Doctor internally sighed with relief as he stuck the sonic between his teeth and began tearing at the inner panels of the helicopter. If anyone burned now, then it would be him, and him alone.

"Doctor!"

He pretended not to hear Martha's pleas for him to join her. Yes, he could run now and let the stricken craft explode, but he couldn't say in all certainty what the radius of the blast would be. Could he take the risk of civilians being harmed?

The answer was a simple 'no'.

_I'm that kind of man…_

Even though he'd never actually said those words, they gave him reassurance that although he wasn't perfect, Martha was wrong about him.

And one day, he'd prove it to her.

Behind the panelling, the Doctor found what he was looking for: The electrical feed for the engine and avionics of the helicopter. Looking over his shoulder to see if the sparks had burned through his coat yet, he saw with alarm that they had and were getting dangerously close to the oozing fuel.

Pulling out a jumbled mass of wires, the Doctor realized he had just one split second to cut the right feed. No time to check each wire with the screwdriver, no time to even _think._

All he had to go on was his Time Lord intuition.

The Doctor closed his eyes and tore the brown wire from its connector housing, waiting for the explosion that would shred his all-too-human body into unrecognizable pieces.

"_Doctor!" _The explosion didn't come, and he snapped open his eyes to see Martha racing towards him, relief spreading across her terrified features as she realized he'd neutralized the threat. "You did it! You stopped half of Chiswick going up in smoke!"

"Yes…well." The Doctor sighed deeply, his dark eyes saddening as he crawled free of the chopper. "It came at a terrible price…just _terrible_…never be the same again…"

"What?" Martha shook her head, not understanding how anything bad had come from saving the neighbourhood.

"My overcoat," he whimpered. "Ruined…burned…fried like a bag of soggy chips!" His shoulders slouched and he loosened his tie further. "_Although…_actually, I don't think I have the original. The _other_ me nabbed that…" His face brightened at the thought. "Fancy a shopping trip when this is all over, Martha Jones? I know this great little tailor back in '47 who'd whip me up a new one, and you and Rose can take a gander at the scenery…"

"Yeah, well, can we _find _Rose first?"

The Doctor nodded, becoming more serious again. Somewhere, Rose was out there waiting for him to come for her, and even though Donna didn't remember him now, she needed his help too.

The _world_ did. He just hoped as a human Time Lord he was good enough to rise to the challenge.

"Excuse me, Dr Jones." It was the sergeant from earlier. He snapped off a salute. "Are you alright, ma'am?" He gave the Doctor a cursory nod too.

"Fine and dandy, aren't we, Martha?" The Doctor answered, looking longingly at his charred and blackened jacket. "More than I can say for my coat, though," he mumbled.

The sergeant didn't seem to hear, or if he did, he had the commonsense not to make further comment. Instead, he pulled a piece of paper from his breast pocket and handed it over. "Just before the EMP we received a communication from Colonel Mace, ma'am. Torchwood Three has just fallen into total blackout. HQ believes they're under attack from…from whatever this thing is."

"Greedy, that's what it is." The Doctor grabbed Martha's arm, tugging her towards the TARDIS. "Thanks for the info!" He waved to the soldier good-naturedly, but kept moving. "See you again soon…_or…maybe not,_" he exclaimed, diving into the console room, tie swinging wildly.

Martha faced him off over the rotor as he tapped frenziedly on the ship's computer screen. "It's gone after Jack, yeah?"

The Doctor looked grim, his slender features and furrowed brow giving him the appearance of a judge about to serve up the death sentence. "Everyone I've ever been close to on Earth," he agreed, pushing more buttons. "And it gets worse. The Tau K'mon are using the Cardiff Rift to bring more of their kind through. Jack's been forced to initiate a Time Lock to try and isolate his team…"

"Some kind of temporal bubble sealing them into a different time, yeah? I didn't think anything could break through a Time Lock?"

"It can't." The Doctor started to power up the TARDIS anyway, dancing around each section of console until the rotor began to make the familiar vwoorping sound. Then he beamed. "'Cept for a _Time Lord_, of course!"

_Roald Dahl Plass, Wales_

_Torchwood Hub _

Gwen was shivering in the darkness, her body pressed tightly against Ianto as she watched Jack tumble lifelessly to the floor.

Ianto stiffened and she felt his fingers dig ever-so-slightly into her flesh without him realizing it. He was afraid for Jack, but then, they both were.

Gwen swallowed, feeling her throat bob and hoping the flashing creature couldn't hear the sound of her terrified gulp.

If it did, it didn't move.

In the darkened chamber, there was silence. All the sounds of modern machinery and hard drives buzzing deadened by the EMP.

Gwen had never heard the Hub this way before, even in lock downs the place had some source of light, some indication of life and the civilized world.

The 'Wall' sputtered, the glow from its surface shifting and changing until it gave off a brighter aura.

It was turning itself into a huge living torch in order to find them.

"Just stay still," Ianto advised. "No need to give it a target until we have to…"

Gwen felt herself nod, wondering if Rhys was safe in the outside world, or if this thing had already begun to assimilate Cardiff too. The idea angered her, made her want to pound at the creature with her bare fists, but she knew that any contact with it would only bring death, as it had, if only temporarily, for Jack.

Ianto moved again, this time surprising her by raising his arm to point at something within the gloom, thus making himself visible to the entity. She squinted, unsure what could possibly make him be so reckless.

It wasn't the materializing shape that first gave away what was happening, but the bizarre sound like metal being grated on metal.

Gwen opened her mouth, both amazed and thankful as the blue police box began to take solid form and shape in front of her. She had never met the Doctor in person, but they had shared a few brief words via a com link during the Dalek fiasco.

And he had saved the planet that time, maybe he could again.

As the TARDIS stopped its unhealthy wheeze, the isolated section of the 'Wall' ebbed backwards across the floor, positioning itself near the edge of the Time Lock. It remained there, its colour changing once again until it was the strangest of deep purple hues.

Gwen pulled away from Ianto and ran out into the radiance from the police box's light. She considered hammering on the door, or maybe forgetting the Doctor altogether in favour of her downed leader.

The door to the TARDIS swung open before she had chance to do either.

* * *

"_Hello!"_ The Doctor bounded out in just his pale blue shirt and tie, hair slightly dishevelled, clothes smelling rather badly of aviation fuel. He took in the lack of lighting and rolled his eyes. "Jack been arguing with the National Grid again then?" He popped his head around the corner of the time machine and then grimaced as he spotted the writhing 'Wall.' "_Ah_, I see you've met my new friend already…"

"Friend, is it?" Gwen was more than puzzled. "That's not what I'd call it…"

The Doctor waved dismissively. "Well…you know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer..." He pulled at his tie, obviously at a loss what to do with his hands without his jacket pockets to stuff them in. "_Mind you…_I'm not sure that was the best military advice I could have given old Sun Tzu given my track record with wars…"

Martha dodged past the blathering Time Lord and kneeled at Jack's side. "He's still breathing," she confirmed. "Not that I doubted _that._"

Ianto joined her, looking from Jack and back to the now static creature. "He let it take him to buy us time," he explained. "I think he thought maybe trying to kill him would drain the thing…"

The Doctor stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets and sniffed, leaning against the TARDIS's side as he scrutinized the unmoving 'Wall'. "He certainly confused it. Look at it…cowering in the corner like a caged animal_. Anyway…_knowing Jack, he probably asked it out on a date _or worse_. No wonder it's befuddled…"

As if his unconscious mind had somehow perceived the jibe, Jack groaned, his eyes flicking open to focus on a very relieved Ianto standing over him. "Hey, I heard that," he groused, rolling onto his side to see the Doctor grinning at him. "And besides, I draw the line at anything that isn't a biped…mostly, anyway…"

"See, we have this bloody great big blob takin' over half of Cardiff, and all you _men_ can think about is _sex_!" Gwen huffed but gave Ianto a hand to pull Jack back to his feet. He teetered a little then shot the Doctor a huge grin and a salute.

The Doctor actually acknowledged the gesture with a bob of his head, but never really took his attention from the 'Wall'. What was it doing? Why was it here? Why kill humans indiscriminately _except_ all his friends?

None of it made sense, and he _had_ to know.

"So, what do we do now?" Jack asked, stepping up to stand at the Doctor's side. "Apart from sinking half a bottle of Aspirin and getting the hell outta here." He rubbed absently at his temple, indicating the creature's attack had left him with more than just a little headache.

"Get everyone into the TARDIS, and if I'm not back in half an hour, initiate the emergency protocols. She'll take you back to her last set of coordinates in Chiswick…"

"While you do what exactly?" Martha chimed in, a tinge or anger in her tone.

"Oh, I thought I'd have a little chat with our sulking Duracell here!" The Doctor pushed away from the TARDIS and took several tentative steps towards the creature, his face changing subtly from mirth to uncompromising conviction as he moved.

"But you _can't_! You know what that thing did to you last time." Martha snatched at his arm, almost snapping him back around, but he used just enough strength to pull free.

"I have to know what it wants…"

"And if all it wants is you_? Dead?_ You said yourself you might not stand another attack…"

His voice was low, grim, unemotional. "Then everybody wins…"

Jack hesitated, looking at Martha as if he didn't know which side to choose. "We have to trust him, Martha." He held out a hand, as if begging her to believe in their friend one more time.

"You're all mad, the lot of you!" Gwen shook her head. "All those good looks, and not one sensible brain cell to show for it between you, see!"

Martha sucked down a breath, evidently trying to compose herself. Then her eyes bored into the Doctor. "Thirty minutes," she confirmed. "And then if you're not in the TARDIS, to hell with the emergency protocol. So help me, I'm coming out here and…"

The Doctor held up a hand. "I believe you," he almost smiled. "Now just _GO_!"

Ianto grabbed the open TARDIS door and wiggled his eyebrows at Jack, suggesting they not argue with the Time Lord. Jack smirked back, ushering Martha and Gwen in ahead of him. "Ladies first," he winked.

Gwen groaned but hopped inside the blue box, immediately choking at the interior's_ unusual_ size. "It's bigger on the…"

"Inside," Martha finished.

Jack looked down at his trousers and obviously considered making a similar comment, but a decidedly dirty look from Martha stopped him in his tracks.

* * * *

The Doctor waited until he heard the TARDIS door slam closed before he moved. He didn't want any of the others to see this, because it wasn't going to be pretty.

Funny really, because poor old Jack didn't even have a clue he wasn't talking to_ the_ Doctor. What would he have to say when he knew he was stuck with the boring old human version of the Time Lord?

The Doctor glanced back at the time ship as it sat patiently waiting for him. If he misjudged his next moves one tiny bit, then the whole planet, maybe the whole universe, would suffer by his death.

Maybe it was easy for his_ real_ self to make this kind of decision, but for him, it was nigh on impossible.

The _real _Doctor could regenerate to fight another day, to put right any wrong he might cause. But he only had one life to give, one chance to save humanity, and that made it an even larger weight to bear.

Rubbing at his brow absently, he moved forwards until he was close enough to touch the pulsing mass. It was still recovering from trying to harm Jack – not exactly injured, but dazed.

If there was any chance of joining with it, reading its mind, then this was his only shot.

But this wouldn't be like looking into Madame De Pompadour's memories. No, this would be like searching the databases of a trillion computers that were all hotwired together.

It had almost killed him the first time, was he really as ready to try this as he'd let the others believe?

The Doctor took the last step, reaching out with both palms until they made contact with the 'Wall'. In an instant, he was glued to the thing by a current of energy that held him fast, as it had all its victims.

He didn't fight the effect, instead probing the creature with his own psyche.

Somewhere inside the jumbled mass of electricity there had to be some kind of sentience, something he could communicate with, reason with.

The 'Wall' seemed to sense his actions and fought back, sending lacing tendrils of fiery pain into his brain. If he was trying to interrogate it on some mental level, then it was returning the favour twofold.

"_Who are you..?"_ The Doctor's mind screamed. _"Why are you taking my friends…?" _

It refused to respond, and all that the Doctor could discern were skittering patterns of colour that sometimes_ almost_ formed pictures.

He concentrated more, focusing his invasion on the images. If the thing wouldn't talk to him directly, perhaps he could detect other clues about its motives.

The pain in his head intensified, and he was reminded of collapsing in the London alleyway. He was pushing his body and mind to the edge of its limitations, and still he needed more.

He felt muscles tense until he thought sinew and bone would snap, but finally the cloudy patterns inside the 'Wall' were becoming clearer.

There was a hillside of unmarked green, and in the distance, a small row of cottages that could easily have belonged in the past. Cottages that he was sure belonged here on Earth, not on some alien planet on which the Tau K'mon might dwell.

Some appeared in disrepair, as if they were no longer inhabited.

The Doctor couldn't help but be transfixed by the end abode, even though there was nothing to distinguish it from the others. He didn't know how or why, but something within the 'Wall' was drawing him to it.

More specifically – to the cottage's roof.

The little house looked like it should have a traditional thatched top, but instead, it had been redone in slate.

_Slate…_

No matter how much he tried to look elsewhere in the image, his mind always returned to the roof.

_To the slate_…

And now, somewhere behind the disjointed image was a voice. No, not one voice, but many, some talking, others screaming, but all unintelligible.

"_Oy! Slow down…one at a time,"_ The Doctor tried to calm the thing, or rather the many things that made up the whole, but as his mind began to explode with the pressure, the voices grew more convoluted.

He felt the familiar trickle of blood on his face and realized his nose was bleeding. He was running out of time, and still there were no answers.

_Cottage…slate…_

A new voice emerged from the throng – a deep controlling grumble that silenced the weaker consciousnesses.

"Die…_with me…"_

It was the same voice from before, and all it wanted to do was kill.

_Kill…_

The Doctor tried to pull away, to use the thing's weakness to escape, but it was stronger than he had anticipated. It was draining him as it had before, sucking at every cell of his body like a gigantic leech.

The other voices returned, pathetic souls that cried out to him even though he couldn't understand their pleas.

He scrunched his eyes closed, retreating inside his own mind so far that he reached the blank spots caused by the first attack: Portions of his psyche that had been reduced to huge black voids where segments of his memory, his very essence should have been.

Somehow, the darkness instantly provided comfort, like the sanctuary of a church.

The Doctor revelled in the nothingness, sensing his body at last pull away from the 'Wall'.

And then, he was tumbling, falling backwards until he felt his back hit the solid shape of the TARDIS. He grunted with the impact, and then he was falling again, this time slithering down the time ship to rest at its base.

His chest heaved and he tasted the iron tang of his own blood on his lips, but he was alive, and he had to now make sense of what he'd learned.

Eyes flicking open, the Doctor shakily pushed up on his elbows and was about to try and stand when a firm hand gripped him, pulling him to his feet.

It was Jack, and at Jack's side, Gwen, Ianto and Martha waited patiently, their worried glances now turning into thin smiles.

The Doctor guessed they had exited the TARDIS the minute he'd joined with the 'Wall', intent on trying to save him should the unthinkable happen. Little did they know how close it had been.

He gave himself the once over, tutting at the state of his shirt before taking the time to look back at the 'Wall'.

It was where he'd left it, but it had changed colour once again. Now, the thing was one massive splodge of red glowing energy.

"Well fancy that!" The Doctor exclaimed, genuinely surprised at the new shade. "You look just like _The Blob_! Ever seen that film? No? You really should…it's a _classic_…"

"I doubt it has very good taste in movies," Jack offered, jerking a thumb back towards the TARDIS. "C'mon, Doc, don't you think we've had enough fun with that thing for one day?"

"Not to mention we can't defend ourselves if it wants to attack again," Ianto added helpfully. "And let's not forget that its 'other half' might be oozing through half of Cardiff while we're chatting…"

The Doctor rocked on the balls of his feet for a moment as if he was deliberating, and then darted to the TARDIS like a sprinter. Dashing inside, he realized the others hadn't quite followed, and so bobbed his head back out around the door. "Well come on then!"

Jack shook his head, grabbed his blue overcoat from where it hung and joined the Doctor, with Martha and the others bringing up the rear.

"Sometimes, I wonder if I even know you at all," Jack pondered as he watched the Time Lord tango around various controls, every now and again wiping a blob of blood from under his nose.

"Well…actually," Martha began. "That's a good point. You _don't_ know_ this_ Doctor very well …"

The Doctor stopped fiddling with a ridiculously large button on the console and grinned, offering up his hand like an overactive kid. "Slightly damaged, human Meta-Crisis Time Lord minus an overcoat and several memories, at your service!"

Jack looked taken aback but took the Doctor's hand and shook it. "You're…you're _him_?"

"I'm _him_!" The Doctor nodded jovially, returning to punch in a set of co-ordinates before realizing he actually didn't have any. "Now then…_where_ were we…?"

Gwen banged her knuckles against her forehead. "Can someone explain all that to me in English?"

Martha rolled her eyes at the idea, but tried anyway. "Something happened during the Dalek attack last year, yeah? I guess Jack never told you, but…well…we ended up with two Doctors…"

"To keep things simple…and because _well_…I fancied Rose something rotten _anyway_…I stayed in the alternate reality, and we were supposed to live there happily ever after." The Doctor's eyes turned glassy. "Except, that didn't quite go to plan."

"Two of _him_?" Gwen looked almost scared.

"Yeah, I know," Jack agreed with a small laugh. "Hard to imagine the Universe is big enough." He looked back to the Doctor. "Seriously, though. If you were stuck in the alternate Universe, I thought that was it, closed off forever, no coming back…"

"Should have been," The Doctor agreed, watching the green rotor rise and fall slowly. "But something tore it open again. An experiment created by a rogue Time Lord trapped in the 1970s…I suppose that's how the Tau K'mon got through too…"

"Look, it doesn't matter how all this happened," Martha butted in. "What we all have to do is stop these things and get Rose and Donna back!"

Now Jack was getting confused. "They have Rose and Donna too?"

"We think so, that's why the Doctor tried to communicate with that thing. We don't know where to even begin to look…"

"Okay…so did you find out anything?" Jack eyed the Time Lord expectantly.

"Oh _yesss! _Well…kind of, except, it didn't really make much sense." The Doctor shook his head, spiky hair flopping as he leaned against a support beam in defeat. "I saw a cottage, and all I could seem to focus on was the roof!"

"What kind of roof? Why was it special?" Gwen pushed.

"That's just it! It wasn't special, it was just an ordinary boring old slate roof." His brow furrowed. "Four cottages in a row, all with slate roofs. There was a hillside in the backdrop." He paused, remembering something he hadn't even consciously been aware of before. "There was a big, clumsy building in the distance! Might have been a fort, or a castle, or…wait…no…I think it was a country house! Yes, country house with a fancy carriage in the driveway…"

"Carriage, as in horse-drawn?" Martha questioned. "Were you even seeing this day, date, and time?"

Jack bounded over to the Doctor's side. "Yes he was!" He looked at the TARDIS's view screen. "I think I know the place you saw. Can you bring a map of South Wales up?"

The Doctor nodded, fingers urgently gliding over keys until a schematic appeared.

Jack tapped the lower portion of the screen, and the map zoomed in to focus on the outskirts of a tiny village. "There, that's the place," Jack explained. "They're filming a new BBC drama there, complete with horse-drawn carriages, extras, and lots of fake wigs…I met one of the actors in a bar in Butetown. Guy had the _most_ amazing…"

The comment earned a jealous scowl from Ianto that everyone pretended not to notice.

The Doctor hit more keys, hijacking a UN satellite to get an aerial image of the hillside. Just visible beyond a small hillock were four cottages, all with seemingly out of place slate roofs. "Brilliant! Jack, you're just _brilliant_!"

Ianto sighed. "Please don't tell him that…"

The Doctor thought about it. "Well, just _somewhat_ clever then…" He stuck his glasses on the end of his nose and then looked over the top of them. "Right, so why would I see an image of a Welsh village in the positively titanic brain of an ancient and very evil alien creature hell-bent on taking over the planet?"

""Maybe we should go there and find out?" Martha suggested a little curtly. "Rose, Donna, remember? Not to mention we have to stop the rest of the country, maybe even the rest of the planet, being zapped, yeah?"

The Doctor glowered. "I bet she didn't pick on the_ other_ me this much!"

Jack nodded, smiling wryly. "Wanna bet?"

"No thanks, not a gambling man, not after that roulette wheel fiasco in the Urellian Belt. Almost got nabbed by a very angry Judoon…" The Doctor sighed, checking the readouts on his console as he scanned Torchwood and the nearby Rift. "It's growing," he said absently, pushing his glasses further onto the brow of his nose. "More and more Tau K'mon are coming through, forcing the mouth of the wormhole wider…"

"Isn't there anything we can do to try and stop it?" Gwen looked grim. "Or at least get the people away…"

"We can't stop it. Even I don't know how yet," the Doctor clarified sadly, then turned to Jack. "I'm going to the village with Martha. Take your people and contact Colonel Mace at U.N.I.T. Tell him I said to start evacuating Cardiff and the surrounding areas."

"Good enough." Jack nodded. "But with one small change. That thing can't kill me, it can you two. I'm coming with you. Ianto and Gwen can take care of the evacuation along with Mace's people."

The Doctor opened his mouth to argue, but seemingly changed his mind, smiling cheekily instead. "You just want a hug off Donna when we find her, don't you?"

Jack grimaced, but for one small moment, everyone else in the TARDIS forgot their woes and chuckled at his expense.

Then the human Time Lord slipped off the handbrake and the ship lurched into the time stream, spinning wildly as it gyrated its way towards the unknown.

_Deserted Cottage_

_Somewhere in South Wales… _

Rose wasn't sure how long she'd been out of it, but it felt like days. She remembered exiting the TARDIS in a London alleyway, but very little else until she'd arrived here.

There had been a strange blackness for a while, like she'd been locked away in a cave with not one single light source, but she supposed that was simply the effect of the 'Wall' transporting her.

And then, there was 'him'.

The man that was no longer a man.

The man that watched over them, his eyes glowing with the same electrical vibrancy that emanated from the 'Wall'.

He wasn't here right now, but she suspected he would be back later, staring at them like they were fish in a tiny glass bowl.

Rose looked around the place, realizing for the first time that she was in a disused house or maybe cottage. Mould grew on the walls, and the glass in the far window was pockmarked with cracks.

It was cold too, but not unbearably so – at least, not yet. How long it would stay that way was a mystery, given that she could see thick flurries of snow falling through the fractures in the window.

Her wrists had been bound behind her back to a section of radiator piping that protruded from the wall, and she had very little room to move her arms or legs, but so far, she still had feeling in them, despite the fact the pipes gave off no heat.

Rose made a face, wondering where the Doctor was right now.

Was he safe?

The 'Wall' may have taken her prisoner, but she couldn't escape the feeling that it wouldn't be so kind to a Time Lord should it get the chance.

Donna Noble groaned, catching Rose's attention. The temp had also been tied to the house's heating pipes after being transported here, but until now she'd remained unconscious.

Perhaps that was a good thing, because Rose had no idea how to handle her. If Donna remembered Rose at all, it could kill her. And yet, Rose could barely resist the urge to talk to this woman about the Doctor, about how he was probably out there in the heavens right this minute trying to save them.

"That's it," Donna groused. "I'm never drinking again…" She pushed herself upright, eyes blearily opening to realize she was not in her bed after all. Her pupils widened as she scanned the room, finally locking onto Rose and the fact that they were both tied up. "I don't mean to be rude," she said quite calmly. "But who are you, and why am I trussed up like last Christmas's turkey?"

Rose smiled meekly. This was just going to be SO awkward. "I think, um, we might have been kidnapped." Well it wasn't a lie, just not entirely all of the truth, either.

"You're havin' me on!" Donna was wriggling now, testing her bonds as she grew steadily angrier. "Who would want to kidnap me, I ask you? Better not be some kind of pervert or I'll…" She squirmed some more, until she realized her efforts were futile. "Just you wait, if this is some kind of sick joke…I bet it's Nerys, she's always been wanting to get me back…as if that Christmas wasn't enough…"

"No wonder he liked traveling with you. You ramble almost as much as him!" Rose shook her head. This was going to be hard work. _Really_ hard work.

"Travelled with who?" Donna was staring at Rose. "And I _so_ do not ramble! I think out loud. _A lot_…"

"The Doct…" Rose caught herself. "A friend of mine. You remind me of a friend of mine…"

"Got a name has he? This _friend_?"

"John Smith…he's probably looking for us already."

Donna huffed "Sounds like a pint of bitter." She gave the room another once over. "Pint of bitter probably be of more use," she muttered. "So how did we get here? I was in bed. How did I get out of my bed and into this house? I'm sure I didn't just magically move in my sleep. I'm not a sleepwalker." She took a breath, her voice getting higher. "_Where am I_? And don't tell me you don't know, 'cause I bet you're in on this with Nerys!"

"I don't know any Nerys, and I don't know where we are." Rose hunched forward as best she could. "Look, I think we gotta be careful, yeah? There's a man in this house, maybe downstairs, and he isn't what he seems…"

"Isn't what he seems? I'll give 'im isn't what he seems if he comes near me!" Donna craned her neck to look at the room's door. When it appeared to be securely locked, her voice grew to a crescendo pitch. "Oy, _Sunshine_! Be a man! Come up 'ere and show yourself! Frightened of little old me, are ya?"

"You might not wanna do that," Rose warned, keeping her own voice much quieter. "Look, I think he's sorta possessed, yeah?"

Now this was going to be the hard part. From what the Doctor had told her, Donna was always shout first, listen later. She was never going to hear what Rose had to say about their captor and the thing controlling him. She'd be too busy shouting.

Rose sighed.

Their captor had once been human, just like them. He was probably the owner of the cottage, or at least someone from the local village. The problem was, he hadn't been that man in hours.

The 'Wall' had somehow taken over his mind, his soul. In a way, it really was like a possession, and Rose had no clue whether it was temporary, or if the poor man was now literally a brain dead walking husk.

Even more frightening was the fact that the 'Wall' had never shown signs of being able to 'possess' someone before. If it had ever been possible, the Doctor would have known about it. So why was it happening here, now?

"_Possessed?"_ Donna's incredulous voice brought Rose back from her thoughts. "You've been watching too much of _The Exorcist_, my girl. It's not _real_!" She huffed, flicking her ginger hair back with a temper that matched the colour of her vibrant locks. "Have you been takin' something? You have, haven't you? Is that what it's all about? One of your mates slipped me a Mickey down at my local, did he?"

Donna wasn't the only one losing her patience. Rose's voice was clearly showing signs of agitation as she replied. "Look, not that kind of possession…more like, I dunno…_alien_ control…"

The second the words were out of her mouth, Rose realized she'd made matters worse. Not only did Donna think she was some kind of smack head, she now thought she was a crazy smack head.

"_Alien_ control?" Donna wasn't having any of it. "Now I know you ain't right in the head. Why didn't you just say _Invasion of the Bodysnatchers?_' What do you take me for? Some kind of _DUMBO?"_

Rose didn't answer straight away.

Donna was right not to believe her. Any normal human being wouldn't believe what was going on.

Eventually, she decided the best course of action was to escape first, and explain later – or better still, escape first, let 'Mr. Smith' explain later. "Maybe we should start at the beginning," she offered. "My name's Rose, Rose Tyler…" She looked warily for any signs of recognition, but thankfully, there weren't any.

"Donna, Donna Noble…abducted temp from Chiswick." She glanced down, wiggling her wrists to try and loosen her bonds before abruptly shouting at the top of her voice. "And I'm _NOT_ a celebrity, so…"

Rose cocked her head in anticipation of the rest of the sentence.

It came in something of a primal scream.

"_Get.__ Me. Out. Of .'ERE!" _

Something on the landing moved before Rose could give any other kind of response. Both women became silent, ears attuned to the new sound.

It was the regular creak of floorboards as someone approached.

"I told ya not to make so much noise!" Rose warned. "It's him…"

Donna huffed again, but her tone had at least dropped an octave or two. _"Who?_ Bodysnatcher boy? The man with an alien brain," she mocked. "No wait, possessed alien brain, was it?" She paused, seeing Rose scowling at her as if their lives depended on silence. "_Wot?_" Her head moved from side to side like an Egyptian dancer gone wrong, but she at least didn't rant on any further.

A bolt slid back and the door swung laboriously slowly inwards.

The man standing at the threshold held a large kitchen carver in one hand, and the other flexed as if he was unsure what move to make next. He looked insecure, trance-like, almost.

He was about six feet tall, short brown hair and a thin growth of stubble adorning his features.

Rose guessed he was probably in his early forties, but it was so hard to tell, because the only thing she kept gravitating towards were his eyes.

They sparked and flashed a kaleidoscope of colours, bursts of energy washing over them like someone had hooked him up to an electrical transformer.

"_Great_ contacts," Donna observed, oozing snark. "Had a pair just like 'em last Halloween. Look, you're not foolin' anyone _Mr. Spock._ Now get over here and cut me free, before your girlfriend here starts getting jealous…" She batted her eyelids at the newcomer suggestively as if he was her type.

"But…he's _not_ my boyfriend…" Rose stammered, realizing Donna still thought the situation was some kind of huge joke. "And that knife ain't for cutting us free…"

The man took a step into the room, his breathing heavy, his features contorting as some inner voice directed him. His swirling eyes locked on Donna and his mouth opened just enough for him to whisper.

"Die…_with me…_"

_TARDIS_

_South Wales…somewhere…_

Martha waited for the TARDIS rotor to calm, her heart throbbing almost in time to its rhythmic pulsing. It had taken only seconds to drop Gwen and Ianto off at a rendezvous point with Mace's people, and not much longer to materialize here.

Wherever 'here' actually was.

The arrival, though, wasn't the important part of the mission. What lay beyond the innocent little police box, well, that was the key to stopping the 'Wall'. At least, they hoped it was.

As the Doctor slipped the handbrake back on, Jack took a tentative look outside the door, his hand sliding to the holster on his belt. Unconsciously, he gripped the six-shooter, bringing it up to waist height as he stepped out.

The Doctor looked up from his console and sighed. "Here we go again," he muttered derisively, jumping down from his perch to follow the Torchwood leader into the Welsh countryside.

Martha followed them both out, quietly closing the door behind her. "It's snowing," she puckered her nose a little. "If I'd known, I'd have brought a better jacket…"

"Don't get me started on overcoats," the Doctor groaned. "I _miss_ my overcoat. Second friend to me that…well, not_ exactly_ friend, more of an inanimate object, really, but…"

Jack held up a hand to silence them. "We get it," he whispered. "You miss your damn coat." He pointed to the row of cottages beyond the stone wall now hiding them. "But can we just focus on the mission here for a second?"

"Right…yes." The Doctor swallowed. "But do you _really_ have to have a gun? I mean, it's very _macho_ and all that, but well…I hate guns… dangerous things if you point them in the wrong direction…I know a Chula who almost had a toe off …"

"Yeah, I _need_ my gun," Jack snapped. "And I'm going in first too. You two stay back until I'm sure the coast is clear, you got that? You're _mortal_, remember?"

Martha smirked as the Doctor gave Jack a dirty look that screamed 'so you keep reminding me!' The Time Lord didn't voice his opinions, however, and Jack appeared to take that as the matter being settled.

Scooting around the ancient wall, he jogged up to the last cottage door, gun held in a defensive position as he waded through the settling snow. When he reached the entrance, he paused, attempting to take a peek inside the grimy windows for any signs of Rose's or Donna's kidnapper.

He brushed at the glass several times with his hands, but there was just too much dirt and too many crazy cracks to allow much scrutiny.

Apparently unhappy with the disjointed view, he edged to the door again and took a long breath. Instinctively counting to three, Jack lunged at the entrance with his right boot, splintering the doorframe enough so that the hinges tore free and the door collapsed inwards.

The ex-Time Agent grinned as his handiwork crashed to the threadbare carpet beyond and then cautiously moved forwards, his eyes darting down the short hallway, watchful for signs of any enemy activity.

There was nothing, but that didn't mean he could or would drop his guard.

Satisfied so far, he turned and ushered the Doctor and Martha to join him.

"About time!" Martha grumbled as they jogged across a short expanse of grass to the shattered entrance. "Anyone would think we were novices at this…"

"Well…he always has been a show off. What did you expect?" The Doctor's eyes twinkled and he darted inside the cottage, obviously eager to begin searching for his missing friends. He pulled the sonic from his trouser pocket and scowled as he realized it was damp from where the snow had melted through his clothes. He brushed away the moisture and then whirled it around in a one hundred and eighty degree arc, its tip glowing vibrantly.

"You getting any readings on that thing?" Jack asked, lowering his handgun to his side as he eyed the two doors that led off into other parts of the house, along with the steep stairway up to the bedrooms.

"Just one," the Doctor admitted slowly. "And it's upstairs…"

Martha frowned. The Doctor wasn't pushing Jack out of the way and springing up the staircase. He'd lost the boundless trademark energy that constantly drove him.

Neither was he crying out Rose's name, wanting to rush into her arms like some scene out of Romeo and Juliet.

And he should be, shouldn't he, if the news was good?

Instead, he looked like a man who had just realized he'd lost everything.

And that scared her more than the threat of the 'Wall'.

"There's something wrong, yeah?" She put a hand on his forearm as Jack took point, carefully taking a step at a time up the stairs.

The Doctor bobbed his head, his voice low and his eyes as sad as a man in mourning. "There's nothing here," he explained with a gulp. "Nothing except a very dead body." He looked up, his face a mask of insecurity. "What if I've lost her, Martha…? What if I've lost Rose?"

_TBC…_


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's Note: Special thanks to irismay42 for doing all the beta'ing on this for me! _

_Chapter Five_

_Deserted Cottage_

_Somewhere in South Wales… _

Donna glared at the man as if he'd insulted her hair rather than threatened her life. "Die with you? _DIE _with you?" She repeated the threat like she'd misheard him. "I don't even wanna be in the same _room_ with you! One of those weird mad cult death pact things, is it? Not my style, _Sunshine_, now cut me free before I get _really _mad…"

Her kidnapper's eyes rolled up under their lids momentarily, and when they returned, they'd changed colour, just like the 'Wall' seemed to do in times of indecision.

"Donna, really, he's serious," Rose pleaded.

"Serious? He hasn't even _seen_ me _serious_!"

The man took several laboured steps forward, his feet dragging across the tattered carpet like he was a revenant, rather than a human. More sparks flashed over his pupils, making him blink every few seconds to regain his vision.

"Die _with me_…"

"Not got the gift of the gab have you, mate?" Donna looked up, her head cocking to one side, the knife in the man's hand apparently having little effect on her bravado or constant sarcastic retorts.

He didn't seem to notice. If the 'Wall' now controlled his thoughts and decisions, then it surely didn't react to derision, even if it understood it.

The man's features didn't change. As he brought the knife up over his head to make the kill, he still looked like a living robot, a pawn with no emotions or choices.

Like a robot, though, his moves were clumsy and disjointed compared to his fully human counterparts. His arms juddered, as if his muscles were receiving alien commands they didn't quite understand.

The respite, the transitory pause while man and alien consciousness attempted to communicate, was enough.

Donna pulled her arms from behind her back and rolled sideways just in time to avoid the approaching blade.

Rose gasped as the tip of the carver sank into the wooden floor where her companion had been sitting. _That could have been one of us…and just how did she get free?_

There was no time to wonder. As Donna tried to scrabble to her feet, the man tugged clumsily on the hilt of his weapon. The carver refused to leave the heavy wooden floorboard, and he jerked backwards like a marionette from the effort.

Donna seized the chance and lunged at the knife, grabbing its wooden handle and yanking at it until it tore free. "'ere let me get that for you!" She staggered slightly, then regained her balance seconds after their kidnapper had.

"Donna! Cut me free!"

Donna appeared to hesitate, unsure if she could really trust Rose. After a moment's pause, she dodged past their still-lumbering captor and quite deftly sliced through Rose's bonds.

"This is ridiculous!" Donna grumbled. "'S worse than getting my very own part in _Psycho_…"

Rose didn't answer, but managed to get to her feet just in time to shove Donna out of the way of another assault from the man.

The centres of his pupils were glowing a fiery scarlet now, and it didn't take much imagination to guess what that meant.

"Run!" Rose couldn't think of anything else to suggest. It always seemed to work for the Doctor, and in this case, they didn't seem to have many other choices – save for actually fighting off the man with the carver, which was totally not an option.

"_Run?"_ Donna yelled. "Do I look like the kind of person who _runs_? Well do I?"

The man grabbed a rusting poker and took a swing at her with it. The corroded iron bar missed her temple with just millimetres to spare as she ducked through the bedroom doorway.

"Yeah, you look perfect for the next Olympics," Rose answered. "Trust me, I've been there…" She grabbed Donna's forearm tightly and wrenched her towards the stairway.

"Ay!" Donna scowled at the poker as it was wielded through the air at her again. The man obviously had very little co-ordination and his aim was wide. "Might wanna watch what you're prodding with that thing!" She commented as the iron snagged on an overhead light fitting. "We're not a bunch of cows you know! Although if that's what you're after, I know just the pub in Chiswick!"

Then she was off, bounding down the steps two at a time.

Rose looked over her shoulder to see the man had pulled the poker free as she dropped onto the first step. He didn't even look human anymore, and she had to admire Donna's tenacity for keeping up the jibes despite his increasingly bizarre appearance.

"Die _with me_!"

He lurched forwards with his impromptu weapon again, totally disregarding the fact that there was a stairwell in front of him. Losing his balance as he missed the steps, he careered into Rose like a ram raider on speed.

Rose didn't see the collision coming until it was too late. The only thing she could be thankful for at this point was that Donna had at least cleared the bottom of the stairs.

The blonde felt the base of her spine bounce on the edge of a step and the air expel from her lungs as she tumbled over and over on her way down. The weight of her assailant pressed on her for the first few revolutions, making her fall all the more painful.

Then his body was free and falling in front of her like a doll thrown from a child's pram in temper.

The descent seemed to take forever, one long, agonizing journey that's end could hold deadly consequences.

Rose wondered if this would be her last moment. So many trips with the Doctor to so many different worlds; It would be ironic if her life was ultimately at the mercy of a simple flight of stairs.

The kidnapper hit the base of the steps first with an awkward 'thump' and he became unnaturally still. Rose slammed on top of him seconds later, the side of her forehead catching on the bottom of the banister rail as her body was brought abruptly to a halt.

* * * *

Donna heard the sickening, bone-crunching crash just as she was scuttling out of the cottage's front door. Looking down at the knife in her right hand, she stopped in her tracks, considering her options.

The noise could easily be the kidnapper attacking the blonde girl with the poker. He could be bashing Rose's skull in, and the only thing between him and murder was Donna.

On the other hand, could she really turn around and use the weapon in her hand in violence? The very thought brought a shudder across the back of her neck and down between her shoulders.

There was always another way. She just needed to find it.

Donna glanced out into the night across the thickening snowfields. What better place to discard the offensive carver than in the drifts? Taking a long swing, she lobbed the knife as far as her best pitch would carry it.

It fell straight into the soft snow, sinking, vanishing from sight like a phantom.

The kidnapper couldn't use it now, and neither could she.

Quickly whirling, she raced back inside, her heart telling her she may not want to witness what was occurring.

When she saw the two bodies at the bottom of the stairway, she cringed.

The girl, Rose, was lying on top of their assailant, and in turn he was sprawled across a scruffy Wilton rug, arms splayed out, and his neck craned at an odd angle.

Was his neck broken?

Donna took small steps towards the pair, afraid of what might happen next. She'd watched all those slasher movies in her teens well enough to know that the bad guy might just suddenly recover and make a grab for her.

But she had to help Rose. It was instinct. It was the right thing to do.

As she drew closer, she noticed blood ebbing from the man's ears, nose and mouth and she dared herself to prod his side lightly with the tip of her shoe. "Are you dead, or just a really, _really_ good drama queen?"

He didn't move. He didn't groan.

But Rose did.

It was the faintest of moans, but enough to make Donna react. She kneeled, carefully brushing away loose blonde hair to see a gash along Rose's brow where she had caught the banister. It wasn't bleeding profusely, but enough to make Donna frown. She'd never really been good with blood.

"You alright?" She asked, knowing the girl was far from it, but not knowing what else to say.

Rose puckered her nose and slowly scrunched up her face before daring to open her eyes. "Do I _look _alright?"

"Well, if you put it like that…" Donna squirmed apologetically. "No, you look like last week's roadkill. Alive roadkill, mind, so that's somethin'."

Rose pushed up on her elbow and instantly wobbled, her eyes bleary and unfocused. She glanced down, realizing she was using someone as a cushion. "Is he…?"

"Dunno," Donna answered. "I mean, can alien-possessed spacemen actually _die_? Although, he did keep asking that we die _with_ him, so…" She offered Rose a hand up, noting that she not only had to support the younger girl, but had to take most of her weight too. If they had to make a run for it anytime soon, it would be a really short escape attempt.

"We shoo..wld go," Rose slurred, her London accent making her awkward speech sound even more peculiar.

Donna nodded, putting an arm around the girl as she led her back to the front doorway.

Outside, the snowfall had turned almost blizzard-like. Even the hole in the drifts left by the knife had already been covered over.

How long could they last in this cold, hostile environment without proper clothing or food? How long before the man recovered – if he wasn't dead –and gave chase?

_And how did I get from Chiswick to Postman Pat's 'ouse? _

"Snowin'," Rose noted distractedly as they ventured out into the bleak, Welsh climate. "Won't be Christymas wiv…out the Doctor…though…"

Donna winced. She was no expert, but the bang to Rose's head had done little for her conversational skills. Add to that the fact that she was a dead weight, and the word _concussion_ sprang to mind.

Either that, or Rose was less than bright and was down right lazy to boot.

"Got any idea where we are?" Donna asked, just to keep the other girl talking and awake.

"TARDIS?!" Rose offered, her groggy eyes sparking with hope and just a little excitement.

"You _wot_?" A distinct scowl appeared.

"TARDIS…we need…"

Donna huffed worriedly. This conversation was most definitely going to be one-sided. "That's not even a word!" she corrected. "I mean what town? What village? What…"

"_Planet?"_ Rose drawled, her suddenly distant gaze suggesting she had no clue what she was talking about. She nodded anyway, as if she had all the answers. "Need to find TARDIS…"

"Stop it. Just…_STOP_." Donna paused, realizing they'd slogged into the heart of a small copse without even _trying_ to navigate or use any kind of sense of direction.

It was even darker here, and with no moonlight to aid their trek, it was more than a little scary.

"We're lost," she admitted, throwing her free hand up in the air while supporting Rose with the other. "Lost and definitely _not_ on a nice warm island with lots of flashbacks, polar bears and hatches in the ground." She huffed, almost disappointed. "Don't suppose we're likely to find a Matt Fox or Josh Holloway around 'ere, either."

Rose didn't seem to understand the irony and wavered on her feet, making no attempt to respond.

Donna, on the other hand... Well, she understood the irony all-too-well. 'Lost' was just the right word for her recently. It was like she was living a dream, a life that didn't belong to her, and one day soon, her own life would come back and she'd be free.

Nerys had chided her, saying she was probably remembering a past life. Some genetic memory built into her subconscious. But Donna knew that wasn't an explanation at all.

If Donna had been anything in another life, it hadn't been Donna Noble in any way, shape or form. If anything, she fancied she might have been a Rottweiler, or some other imposing creature.

_And let's face it, I've definitely got the gob for it…and I'm barking mad__. Must be, or I wouldn't be out 'ere… _

Donna felt her already frigid feet begin to squelch and she looked down, forgetting her misgivings about life.

It was then that she realized she only had slippers on, and that the snow had gradually seeped through the fabric. In one respect, she'd been lucky enough to be wearing the new pink sheepskin bootee ones her mother had just bought her, but still not lucky enough for them to be waterproofed against the elements.

Add to that the fact she was only wearing pyjamas and a thin woolly cardigan and she was pretty much underdressed.

Until now, she hadn't given her attire much thought, but she'd been in bed when she'd been kidnapped. "Not like I had the chance to pack," she groaned. "If I'd had just that bit longer I'm sure I could have remembered my skis, _NOT_!"

"Coming…" Rose had stirred.

"What? Sure you don't want a TARDIS again, whatever that is?" Donna moved her feet uncomfortably, feeling icy tendrils oozing between her toes. "Some new McDonald's snack, is it? TARDIS and fries to go…?"

She didn't mean to be rude, but she was actually getting very cold, very hungry, and just a little scared. And the awful truth was, the more scared Donna got, the more she tended to gripe and drop into full-on sarcasm.

"If I get frostbite I'm _suing_!"

Rose tried to lift an arm, but it seemed the effort was too much. Instead, she attempted to voice her concerns again. "He's coming…_following_…"

This time, Donna peered through the snow in the direction Rose had tried to point. Bobbing up and down in time to someone's rhythmic gait was a glowing flashlight.

The short, wide beam cut through the darkness in the valley and across the snowfield in their direction – and it didn't take an expert to work out the figure holding the light had come from the cottage.

To bear out the fact, the man seemed to walk mechanically, like an automaton.

Like a _robot_.

Donna gasped and grabbed Rose's arm in desperation, half dragging her further into the woods. Their kidnapper hadn't been killed in the fall after all, and he was quickly gaining on them.

And this was his territory, his domain.

Donna grunted as a thick branch thwacked her in the face, grazing her skin. "Ugh," she complained, guiding Rose past the obstruction more carefully. "I hate the country. All those creepy crawlies and bugs and dark places where weirdo psychos chase you to banjo music..."

Donna stopped blathering and swallowed.

"First time I've heard you speechless," Rose commented, being careful to watch her footing while she was still so muzzy.

"Yeah, well…it's not everyday you find your bum firmly planted in front of _a thing_…if I'd known I'd have dressed for the occasion."

Rose forced her head up, neck muscles straining with the effort.

Behind them was their kidnapper, the alien-possessed man who had tied them up in the cottage and watched over them like an obedient guard dog.

But in front of them, _his _master now waited to be introduced.

The 'Wall' wasn't moving, it wasn't doing anything.

"It's them…" Rose's eyes dimmed in defeat.

_South Wales…somewhere…_

"What if I've lost her, Martha…? What if I've lost Rose?"

"You guys might wanna get up here!" Jack's voice cut through the silence, giving Martha a brief respite from having to answer the Doctor's question.

"C'mon." She patted his arm and then jogged up the stairs after Jack. She doubted the Torchwood leader would have been quite so tactless as to drag them up here if the body was either Rose or Donna, after all.

"Looks like we've got another victim of our sparkly friend." Jack bobbed his head as Martha entered the bedroom followed closely by the Doctor. "Been dead awhile too, by the looks of the body."

Martha dropped onto her knees and examined the corpse. It wasn't the nicest thing to look at, but she'd seen worse in her time. The body was that of an old man, easily in his seventies, his thin locks combed carefully over his pink scalp to hide his receding hairline.

Like all the other victims of the 'Wall', the old timer had traces of dried blood under his nose, and coagulated globules on his earlobes.

"He's been dead days, I'd say," Martha confirmed. "Looks like a typical Tau K'mon killing too."

"Hmmn…something's not quite right here…" The Doctor slid on his glasses and hunkered over both Martha and the old man. Plucking the sonic from his pocket again, he began to scan the body up and down repeatedly.

After several attempts, his features puckered and he started banging the screwdriver into the palm of his hand. "Knew I shouldn't have added those new settings…can't be calibrated properly…"

"Something bothering you?" Jack asked with a knowing smile.

"Not bothering, just intriguing. Well…not so much_ intriguing_ as perplexing – in a not so perplexing kind of way…" The Doctor grinned as the sonic tip resumed its usual blue pulse. "_A-ha_! See, this fella's giving off some really, really, _REALLY_ strange readings and it just doesn't add up. Not that I was ever any good at that kind of maths, mind you…"

Martha considered asking what 'that kind of maths' actually was, but decided against it. She really didn't want to be in this freezing cottage all day while he explained the intricacies of the sonic screwdriver. "So what's wrong?" she asked instead, hoping it was a simpler question.

"According to my scan, he's been dead since the first recorded attacks. That means he could be the first kill. But – and this is a big but – all the earlier attacks were in London, not here in Wales, or so we thought…"

"Does it really matter if there were other isolated incidents?" Jack queried, moving to the window to watch as the flurry of snow outside increased into a blizzard

.

"Oh yesss!" The Doctor was bouncing on the balls of his feet now, obviously excited by his find. "He's been singled out, chosen one and all that! The question is _why_?" He rubbed a hand through the floppy quiff of hair springing from his head. "Why would the Tau K'mon want to kill an old man? And more to the point, why is my sonic still going bonkers every time I point it at his corpse?"

"Hey, there's no accounting for taste," Jack smirked.

"Not like you ever had any," the Doctor mumbled back, glancing around the room over his glasses like an old time school professor assessing his students.

"I'm thinking we should look around, yeah? See if there's anything here that could give us a clue why they killed him," Martha intervened.

"Well either that or we stand here all day hoping for a brainwave," the Doctor agreed, his eyes locking back on the body as if it called to him somehow. There was something obviously niggling him about the victim, even if he didn't say it.

Martha noted his unusual silence, but focused her attention on a nearby antique-looking desk. Worrying about what the Time Lord was thinking wasn't going to get them any closer to solving this riddle, or at least finding out the old man's identity.

Pulling open the top left hand drawer, she began to rifle through a pile of documents and other items that at first glance appeared to be the typical contents of a bureau. There were several crumpled and very tatty journals, along with fading photos and scribbled notes.

"Not exactly the organized type, was he?" Jack noted as he glanced over in between searching a bookcase.

Martha didn't answer, but scanned over the pictures one at a time. They seemed to intrigue her, but eventually she dropped them on the wooden desk and flicked through a couple of the diaries.

"The man in the pictures, yeah? It sounds like he's the same person who wrote the journals…"

"And this is surprising because..?"

Jack looked over to Martha again, but the Doctor didn't even notice their conversation. He was still scrutinizing the body, this time with a huge magnifying glass he seemed to have magicked from his infamously immense pockets.

"Well, the man who wrote the journal also seems to be our mystery body…"

Jack grimaced. "You're telling me this guy had some major work done on his face? At _his _age? C'mon, and I thought_ I_ was vain…"

"I'm not sure," Martha admitted with a sigh. "But all the recent journals are either missing or he gave up writing them…"

"He didn't stop writing," the Doctor suddenly spoke, his voice low but commanding enough to immediately capture Martha and Jack's attention. He knew something, even if he wasn't saying what yet. "He's not the type not to document his _achievements_. We need to find those diaries, they're the key to all this!"

Martha turned back to the bureau. It was a fascinating piece of workmanship, and just the kind of traditional furniture that might have hidden compartments. At least, if films like _National Treasure_ were to be believed.

Wishing she had Nicolas Cage on her side, she began to probe the woodwork. There were too many niches and nooks that could hold a catch or secret button, but she carried on looking anyway.

"Can't you just check this over with the sonic, Doc?" Jack asked, scowling as his over-zealous searching was rewarded with a splinter in his thumb.

"Doesn't exactly _do_ wood," the Doctor admitted, remaining hunkered over the corpse as if it might try to escape. "Besides, that thing's a genuine _Chippendale_! Should be treated with a soft touch and loving hands, not like a bull in a china shop! Or should that be a sonic in a china shop? _Anyway…_"

Jack's eyes twinkled. "So_ not_ the kind of Chippendale I'd like to treat to a soft and loving hand or two…"

"_Oy_!" The Doctor growled. "_Don't,_ alright?"

"I was just saying…"

"I think I've found something!" Martha interrupted as a small panel opened up next to the drawer she'd already searched.

She pulled out another set of journals bound together with a knotted piece of silk. Tugging the knot loose, she pulled away the material and opened up the top book.

A third of the way through, she noted something protruding from between two pages and pulled it free. It appeared to be an aging tin-type that's edges were curling from too much exposure to the elements.

Martha sucked down a breath as she examined the old photograph. "Doctor, you won't…"

The Doctor finally stood from his crouched position. "Believe you? Oh yes I will! This isn't just _any_ dead body…"

"M&S dead body?" Jack dared to counter.

The Doctor didn't acknowledge the sarcasm. "It's the body of a dead _Time Lord_…"

Martha flipped the photo over and passed it to Jack, her eyebrows dipping in concern. "Worse still," she agreed. "It's a regenerated Nikola Tesla, yeah?"

"Yes," The Doctor admitted, slapping his palm against his forehead over and over in frustration. "How could I have been _so_ stupid? How could I have missed the most obvious of_ obvious_ clues that was _obviously_ sticking right under my nose?"

Jack frowned. "Missed _what_, exactly?"

The Doctor was pacing the room, spouting every known self-derogatory comment he could think of about his own failure to figure out what was going on.

"Why I kept seeing the slate roof, of course! It wasn't a roof at all!" He stopped prancing to and fro across the bedroom floor and rubbed at his brow with his thumb and forefinger. "Jumbled electrical impulses, that's what it was! Silly old Time Lord brain getting a bit confused! Think about it! Slate, as in homogeneous, metamorphic rock composed of quartz and muscovite or illite, often along with biotite, chlorite…." He realized the list was getting boring from Jack's expression. "Slate as in cottage roof tile. _OR,_ '_slate'_ as in _anagram_ of 'Tesla'!"

"So the stiff is a dead Time Lord you didn't exactly get along with," Jack concluded, giving the body a second glance. "So why are you getting all fired up if he was a bad guy?"

The Doctor held up a finger to shush the Torchwood leader. "I should have _known_ who and what he was sooner. I should have_ felt_ it, but I didn't, why?" He screwed his eyes closed trying to focus. "There's something more swimming around in the vast soup of data in my head, I just can't seem to access it…it's like I've lost something…my saucepan has definitely gone off boil…"

"The amnesia remember?" Martha pointed out. "The more you push it, the harder it will be. Just let it go and things will come back on their own. For now, maybe we should try and figure out what Tesla's connection to the Tau K'mon was."

"Maybe they killed him because they sensed he was a Time Lord. Like a threat, ya know?" Jack suggested.

The Doctor shook his head as if he didn't like that idea and peered down at the body through the magnifying glass again, eyes scrutinizing every wrinkle, every crease of skin. "Well possibly," he conceded. "But…I don't think Tesla is dead at all…_well,_ technically I suppose he is, physically, at least…_but_…."

"There always has to be a but with you, doesn't there? And I don't mean the inviting kind." Jack sighed. "Anyway, he looks deader than a stone to me." He ambled over and nudged the corpse with his boot toe as proof.

"Don't forget he's been trapped in the past since he jumped into the Rift." The Doctor continued to ramble as if Jack knew all the details of what had happened whether he did or not. "He's had time for his hatred of me, of the human race, to fester and turn him even more…um_…bonkers_ than before. He's also obviously regenerated at least once since we last met…or rather, since he and the _other_ me last met…"

"Oh for crying out loud." Jack's patience was apparently growing thinner than the corpse's hair. "Will you just_ get_ to the point?"

The Doctor bobbed back down and pulled his stethoscope from his pocket. To Martha and Jack's amazement, he began sounding the corpse's chest as he talked. Or at least, that was what it_ looked _like he was doing. "I think Tesla has been monitoring the Cardiff Rift since he was trapped in the past. Through all these years, he's been trying to find a way to harness it again to get home to his own world. Probably why he set up house here in Wales…either that, or he likes leek farming!"

"So Tesla has been spying on the Rift," Martha concluded, her face a picture of confusion as she watched the Doctor. "I'm guessing when he saw the Tau K'mon start to come through he thought maybe the door was two-way? That maybe he could jump through it in the opposite direction? It was his original experiment that caused the anomaly after all…"

"No…he's too smart to think he could just 'jump' home without any kind of co-ordinates. This is about something else…something far, far worse." The Doctor slid the stethoscope back into his pocket.

"Still think he's not dead?" Jack snarked.

The Doctor wasn't abashed. "Oh, he's never been dead…_at least_, the important part of him hasn't. Crafty old fella is our Tesla!" He patted the pocket the stethoscope had vanished into. "You see, I reckon this body was his last – he was on his thirteenth life…"

Martha nodded slowly, finally understanding. "He'd used up all his regenerations and he was getting old, dying maybe?"

The Doctor clicked his fingers as if Martha had joined him in some strange, alien 'magician's circle' and was now privy to their secrets. "_Exactly!_ Martha Jones, you aren't half a smarty pants sometimes!"

Jack wasn't quite following. Stuffing his hands into his long overcoat pockets his brow dipped in bewilderment. "So, Tesla was old and dying, he sees the Tau K'mon hauling their butts through the Rift and...?"

"And he lured them here!" The Doctor exclaimed excitedly. "Lovely, just _lovely_! I love it when a plan comes together…oh wait, that's Hannibal Lecter's line…or was it Hannibal _Smith?"_ He shook his head. "Anyway, Tesla tricked the 'Wall' here with a cunning, insane, totally creepier than _creepy _plan…"

"You're right, it is pretty insane to lure a wall of energy right into your house knowing it's going to fry your ass," Jack affirmed.

"'Course I'm right…except Tesla never meant to let the thing fry the important part." The Doctor was looking happy with himself, but seriously worried at the same time. "He let it fry the body, not the consciousness. Imagine Brad Pitt and that big old wooden horse!"

"I wouldn't mind imagining Brad," Jack admitted. "The horse, I can do without…"

"Tesla used his body as bait, yeah?" Martha chipped in. "He thought his Time Lord mind was strong enough to take control of the 'Wall,' and once he'd joined with it, he'd be immortal. The body was surplus to requirements once he'd melded with the thing."

"Which is why," the Doctor muttered, looking out of the window, face sombre, "the Tau K'mon suddenly want to hurt my friends. Tesla hates me, hates humans by association…and anything he hates, the Tau K'mon now hate. His consciousness is manipulating their every move. If they were bad before…"

"Okay, so, a deadly alien race has invaded the planet and in turn has been taken over by an even deadlier species that just happens to be more than a little ticked off with you…" Jack scratched his head. "Did I miss anything important?"

Martha looked at the Doctor. She could see the sadness in his eyes - the regret at not having all the answers. Maybe in time he'd realize that not even _her_ Doctor was perfect.

Sometimes, you just had to wait until the answers jumped up and bit you, and hopefully not on the bum.

She glanced at Jack, finally answering his question when the Doctor didn't. "Yeah, you missed how exactly we fight the 'Wall' now? If it was smart before, it's got a Time Lord mind swimming around inside it now. And _he_ has Rose and Donna as leverage…"

"We should search the cottage again," the Doctor interrupted, springing over to the bookshelf Jack had been examining. "Tesla might look like he was untidy on the surface, but all this clutter…this _mess_ would have had some order, some meaning and relevance. It's how we're taught on Gallifrey…just look at the TARDIS for example!"

"Time Lords do it in junk, huh?" Jack winked at Martha and was ready for the 'evil eyebrow' he got from the Doctor.

"Will you just _look?_ Y'know, search, scavenge, hunt, seek,_ ferret_…"

Jack shot him a small salute and a grin and gestured towards the doorway. "Okay, I'll take the second bedroom while you guys finish off in here. No canoodling in my absence…"

"Wouldn't dream of it," the Doctor assured him, beginning to toss books randomly over his shoulder as he scoured the shelf.

Every now and then he paused, looked over his glasses at a title and then tutted before carrying on.

Martha watched him for a while; his movements, his absurd expressions. When he was like this, he was every inch her Doctor.

And she could tell he was scared, angry even.

He tried to hide it, of course, but every now and then that blank doleful stare of his would appear, just for the briefest of moments.

It was his 'tell', and despite all that Time Lord cunning and false bravado, he'd never been able to mask it.

Right now, to an outsider, his expression was one of amusement, but Martha knew better.

This version of the Doctor was being torn apart inside because he felt responsible for Rose and Donna's abduction.

And because more than anything else, he _loved_ Rose.

Martha caught herself staring at the Time Lord and moved away. She shouldn't be feeling sorry for him, she should be helping him. _So where would an old man hide something important? _

Aside from the desk and shelf, there was very little in the room save for a few ornaments over the fireplace and a painting on the wall nearest the door.

_Guess under the bed or in the mattress is out of the question then…_

Martha moved to the ornaments. They didn't look particularly valuable. She picked up a porcelain figurine and shook it, testing to see if anything had been hidden in the hollow niche inside.

There was no sound, so she dropped the piece of pottery, letting it smash on the hearth on purpose.

Still, there was nothing inside.

"Oy! Vandal!"

Martha blushed at the Doctor's disapproving stare and was about to explain herself when a thought hit her.

Didn't people sometimes hide things _behind_ pictures and paintings?

Striding over to the wall, she carefully shifted the gilt frame enough to crouch slightly and look underneath it. A large manila envelope had been taped to the back of the frame. "_Bingo_!"

"Nah, I prefer Bridge myself…or how about a spot of _Scrabble_? Good at jumbling up words, me!" The Doctor vaulted over from his side of the room anyway, helping Martha remove the painting from its hooks. "Then of course there's always _Cluedo_….meeting Agatha and that Vespiform put me _right off_ that one, though! Reverend Golightly, in the library, with the huge waspy stinger thing…you should have _seen_ the size of that barb!"

Martha cringed, happy that she'd missed that particular adventure. "No thanks," she mumbled, tearing the tape away from the envelope's edges to free it. "This looks like it's been here ages."

"Probably has," the Doctor agreed, looking over Martha's shoulder as she pulled out several legal documents. "Aww, look here! Tesla's been playing property tycoon! And they say time travel doesn't have its perks…"

"You think he's been using knowledge of future events to make money, yeah?" Martha examined the land deeds in her palm and gawked. It seemed that Tesla was, or had been, quite a wealthy man.

"'_Course_ he has!" The Doctor took off his glasses and snatched the deeds from Martha's grasp without even an apology. He scrutinized several. "Been buying up all kinds of real estate…and I'm betting we'll find Rose and Martha at one of these locations!"

"As in 'it's a trap'," Martha concluded, pulling a face at the idea of walking into yet another ambush – it was a favourite habit of the Doctor's – but thankfully one he was very good at wriggling out of. "And how do we know which one of those, anyway?"

The Doctor pursed his lips, sucked on the arm of his glasses a second, and then counted just how many land documents Tesla had collected. "If we can get close enough to each location with the TARDIS, I can scan for artron energy from the time vortex…Rose, Donna, they'll still carry residual traces in their systems. Anyone who's travelled in the TARDIS does." He scowled. "Not to mention, good old Donna Noble still has Time Lord memories whizzing around in her noggin I should be able to trace!"

"I thought, you – I mean, the 'other' you – removed all that?"

"Not removed," the Doctor clarified. "He just made her forget…and she can never remember, not once, Martha Jones…or…"

"I know." Martha's head dropped and she found she didn't know what else to say.

Luckily, Jack decided this was a good point to bound back in and interrupt them. "I got nothing," he admitted with a shrug. "How about you two lovebirds?"

"We have nine locations to scan." The Doctor tossed the deeds at Jack. "And I have a very bad feeling we don't have much time to do it in."

Jack scowled. "I thought Time Lords had ugh…time on their side?"

"No crossing into established timelines or events! Forbidden, verboten, proibito…_Or _as they say in France,_ so_ not havin' any of that!" The Doctor took a breath and his mood seemed to change with the gulp of air. "_Seriously_…if anything happens to Rose, to Donna…I can't go back and change it…I've lost them…"

Martha scooped the land registrations up from the floor where they'd fallen. "So we better hurry then, yeah?" She quirked up just one brow and made for the exit.

Jack and the Doctor didn't argue, but dashed after her, struggling to keep up with her youthful gait.

_Welsh Countryside_

_Somewhere…_

"_Them?"_ Donna queried, looking at the spasming 'Wall' as if it might start to grow actual features. "It looks like a bloody great big science project someone left behind, if you ask me…" She squinted, examining the thing as if it was an act of nature than an alien entity.

"Don't get too close…" Rose's voice was a little more forceful now, and she seemed to have regained some strength, tugging on Donna's arm to make her fall back from the thing.

The gesture didn't work.

"Some secret government scheme, is it then?" Donna had forgotten the cold and was remembering how she'd been held captive. Those kinds of thoughts tended to bring out her sassy side even more. "I bet that thing's sucking up half the power around 'ere! No wonder my electric bill went up last year! Just you wait till I get home. I'm writing to the local council about this…"

Rose looked at the creature and then over her shoulder at the approaching man. Donna felt compelled to instinctively follow her gaze.

There was very little distance between them now.

Was the man a soldier? A spy? Some kind of secret agency man like James Bond?

"We have to get past that thing before he gets here," Donna concluded. "How hard can it be to sidestep a life-sized sparkler anyway?" She looked slightly wary.

"Harder than it looks," Rose suggested. "That thing knows what we're saying, maybe even what we're _thinking_…"

Donna huffed and shot the 'Wall' a dirty look. "Yeah, well lemme tell you, if it just read my mind, it won't like what it got!" She tapped her skull. "Private in 'ere, comprende? No parking, no sightseeing, mate!"

She grabbed Rose's arm, still oblivious to just how dangerous the creature could be. But as she hurriedly glanced around, Donna soon realized there was nowhere to go – at least, not unless they dived into a narrow stream that eddied through the woodland.

"We'll freeze to death in there!" Rose warned, her words still slurred.

"Freeze or fry?" Donna appeared to be making an offer as the 'Wall' began to move slowly towards them. "I'm no expert, but electricity and water don't usually mix…"

Rose shook her injured head, the motion apparently making her reel. "It doesn't work that way," she warned.

But Donna was already realizing that.

As she watched, the pulsing form hovered over the brook like an angel floating on air. Sparks flashed over the water's surface, popping and crackling as they hit the fast moving stream.

An otter skittered too close to the thing's path and was caught in the current the 'Wall' emitted.

The animal convulsed just once and then jerked back down into the water, its fur spiking and its flesh sizzling from the encounter.

The otter's body floated for a while, moving downstream past Rose and Donna.

A warning of what might happen next should they touch the 'Wall'.

Donna and Rose whirled around again in the snow, desperate for another escape route, but only an almost impassable stretch of forest remained.

And now, the robot-man was almost upon them, his neck still cocked at an odd, impossible angle.

"Oh this is just _great_," Donna complained. "Stalked by a giant plasma ball and its zombie sidekick on Christmas Eve. This'll make the _Sunday Sport_ headlines…"

The man who had become the 'Wall's' puppet jerked to a halt, his right arm swinging wildly where it had apparently popped out of its socket in the fall. In his good hand, he held another impromptu weapon, and Donna guessed he'd been hunting around in the cottage's kitchen drawers again.

The knife in his hand was smaller this time, something more suited to filleting, Donna guessed. "Is that the biggest you could find? Size definitely doesn't matter to you, now does it?"

"You have to stop taunting them. We're only alive now because they want the Do…" Rose stopped, clipping her sentence short.

And this time it wasn't just for Donna's sake.

The 'Wall' and 'zombie' guy had the trails north and west covered. The stream cut across to their south, only leaving east at their disposal – and that was a spectacularly dense patch of forest that was terrifying just to look at.

It seemed to ooze menace like a scene from Burton's _Sleepy Hollow._

Except now, it wasn't just a stretch of ominous woodland, alive with creatures of the night. It was _alive_ with something else.

Branches cracked and snapped, and shadows danced with a new ferocity as the two women's only open path was blocked by something new – something that flashed and flickered as it steadily moved towards them through the thicket.

"It's another one of those things," Donna gasped, all the fight draining from her features. "We're gonna die out here." She looked down at her sodden feet. "I'm gonna die in my slippers. On Christmas Eve. Fillet of Donna…"

"The Doc…_my friend_, he'll come for us…he _always_ comes for me…" Rose's eyes were glassy again, but this time Donna thought the effect was more a dreamy, almost starry-eyed expression, than symptoms of a head injury.

_Whoever he is, she's in love with him. _

Donna sighed. If this girl's friend was as reliable as most of the men she'd known, they were still in deep trouble.

Rose may well believe she was going to be rescued movie style by her mysterious 'Mr Smith', but Donna didn't expect Richard Gere to be whisking them out of the snow anytime soon.

To confirm her fears, zombie man and the 'Wall' began to move towards them again in perfect unison, their thoughts seemingly one.

The alien energy being rippled and flashed, its patterns somehow suggesting it wanted to do harm. The man's actions mirrored those of his master, and his fist flexed over the knife he carried until his bloodless knuckles looked like they would burst through his skin.

Donna exhaled, wishing she was down at her local, or up the garden with granddad stargazing – anywhere but in this barren, deadly wilderness. "You know," she offered, one hand on her hip, talking as much to the empty countryside as she was Rose. "I never thought I'd say this…_but._" There was a pause, a brief respite while she gathered herself. "Now might be a good time to…_SCREAM!_"

Tbc…


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter Six_

Donna didn't scream, and neither did Rose.

The thing approaching from the east suddenly burst through the thicket into the exposed clearing – except it wasn't a 'thing' at all. It was the Doctor, Jack and Martha.

The light that had flickered and filled the stretch of forest with ominous foreboding hadn't been the electrical discharges of another alien being; instead it had been the benign pulsing of the Doctor's sonic screwdriver, leading him to both girls.

Donna examined the group with surprise and uncertainty. "I don't suppose one of you is named Smith, by any chance?" she asked, warily looking at Jack as if he might be the one she was after.

Jack shrugged apologetically and glanced over towards the Doctor, but he didn't have time to give any explanations.

The 'Wall' had seemingly realized its plan was going dangerously awry, and it needed to make a move to rectify the problem before it lost control.

Moving faster than usual, the miasma of energy surged forwards, trying to envelop both Rose and Donna in its deadly aura.

Even though she was still suffering from the effects of her earlier tumble, Rose was still too fast for the creature. She had a choice to make, a split second decision between herself and Donna.

Donna was the innocent here, the one person who had no clue what was going on or why she'd been involved. If anyone deserved to be saved, it was the temp from Chiswick.

Grabbing Donna and spinning her around, Rose shoved her cheeky friend clear of the 'Wall' and its debilitating effects, only to be taken by it herself.

The 'Wall' let its tentacles close around her, capturing her, but not yet attempting to do any harm. To Rose, it was like being held in a Dalek force field all over again. She was conscious of everything around her, but at the same time powerless to interact with the outside world.

The Doctor was here, and so were most of her friends, but she may as well be alone for all the good they could do her right now.

Rose was at the mercy of a creature from the fringes of time that had never shown compassion or mercy once in its perpetual lifespan.

* * * *

Donna yelled in surprise as she was pushed forwards, tumbling over and over in the snow until she came to a halt just a few feet away from the 'zombie'.

"Not you _again_!" Donna scrambled in the thick slush under her feet, slipping and sliding as the man lumbered towards her. "Shouldn't you go back to the coffin you crawled out of or somethin'?"

The man didn't hear her, but slithered closer, his boots dragging in the snow until it formed small mounds on the front of his Doc Martens. He raised the knife over his head, repeating his actions back in the cottage like a well rehearsed play.

Donna cringed, momentarily ceasing her attempts to stand as she waited for the blade to plunge downwards.

Nothing happened.

Blinking in astonishment, she looked up to see the rather handsome man she'd pegged as Smith tussling with the 'zombie'. His long blue overcoat billowed backwards in the still drifting snowstorm, giving the bizarre impression of some kind of super hero cape.

"Donna, you've been eating too many E numbers," she scolded herself as she finally dragged her body out of the snow, narrowly avoiding the two men still fighting over her.

"Jack! Do you always have to brawl like a Neanderthal?"

Donna's eyes shifted to the new, scathing voice. It belonged to a quirky, extremely skinny geek in a blue suit, who was darting towards the alien blob without any sign of fear. _He's a right nutter,_ she thought absently, dodging out of the way as her rescuer finally despatched 'the zombie' with a final right hook to the jaw.

The rescuer, or rather Jack, held out a hand. "Not Smith then?" she asked, turning her attention to the Doctor. "Don't tell me Rose is in love with 'im?"

Jack winced. "Long story, but yeah, pretty much." Taking Donna's hand without her permission, he tugged, half dragging her to Martha and the relative safety of the forest.

Meanwhile, the Doctor had positioned himself just a few short feet away from the rippling 'Wall'. He held out his left hand, long fingers outstretched. "You don't have to hurt her, this is between you and me…"

The 'Wall' seemed to consider the idea, spikes of energy undulating over Rose's body with just enough power to make her jolt suddenly in discomfort.

"It's me you want. Me you've _always_ wanted," the Doctor tried again, his features intense with concentration and deep-seated anger. "Just let Rose go and take me instead. You know you've the power to kill me…you've read my mind enough to know I'm human…"

"All in …good….time…" The 'Wall' hissed spasmodically. "But…for now…I need you and the Face of Boe _alive_…"

"You can't trust him, it…you know what that thing's capable of!" Martha yelled a futile warning, almost breaking from her position to join the Doctor.

Tesla's consciousness nestling within the energy being laughed a low, grumbling chortle. "I …do not _ask_ you to trust me. I _command_ you to help me reconfigure Torchwood's Rift Manipulator. If I cannot return to _my _world via the conduit, then I shall bring forth the remainder of my Tau K'mon brethren…and we shall conquer_ this_ one…"

"Doctor, you can't," Martha pleaded, her eyes flashing in despair at the choices they were being given.

"Oh, but they both can and will…join me at the Hub…or I will offer up Rose's charred and blackened corpse…as a consolation prize…"

The 'Wall' shimmered, the solidity of its form waxing and waning until it abruptly blinked out of existence in a flash of iridescent light, taking Rose Tyler with it.

Donna's mouth opened and she gaped for a second before regaining control of her facial muscles. "Bloody 'ell," she muttered, any cognitive sentences lost in her whirling mind. "Tell me she didn't just vanish…"

"She didn't just vanish," Jack obliged. "That thing just transported Rose to Torchwood, and now we have to follow and kick some alien butt. Right, Doc?"

"Doc?" Donna queried, a brief look of recognition passing across her exhausted façade. "I thought his name was _Smith_? Tell me he's not_ Doctor_ Smith? I mean, c'mon? Even I'm not_ that_ stupid. I saw _Lost in Space_ as a kid too, ya know."

Jack ignored the rant that followed, focusing on the Doctor.

The gangly Time Lord was still staring at the space the 'Wall' and Rose had occupied. His expression was blank, his body language totally unreadable.

Eventually, he turned, walking past everyone without saying a word.

As the Doctor vanished back into the unforgiving forest, Martha draped her jacket around Donna's shoulders. "He's going to Torchwood to try and stop that thing."

"To try and save Rose," Jack corrected. "And we have to help him…"

_TARDIS_

_Ten Minutes Later…_

Donna hadn't been exactly sure of her position on a map while she'd been scrambling through the snow-covered countryside, but now she was even less certain of her surroundings.

When the man everyone seemed to simply call 'Doctor' had headed off through the blizzard and the others had followed, she'd pretty much been obliged to join them or freeze.

But then he'd dived inside what looked like an ancient police box she was sure she'd last seen the likes of in _Dixon of Dock Green_. Not that she was actually old enough to remember that, mind you.

If that hadn't been weird enough, inside the strange call box was just…well, it was just _wrong_. Donna had been rubbish at science at school, but you really couldn't get large _inside_ small, could you?

She was contemplating the fact while watching 'The Doctor' pirouette around the centre of the box, pressing buttons and generally acting like Bozo the Clown.

As she frowned at his behaviour, Martha reappeared from what must be some kind of antechamber, a fresh and thankfully dry set of clothes over her arm.

Martha offered up the jeans and a jumper along with a towel, outwardly oblivious to the madman still cavorting around the centre console. "Are you sure you're okay? It must have been freezing out there in just pyjamas."

Donna shivered at the memory of the icy mire she'd squelched her way through. "I'm good," she answered, bobbing her head towards the Doctor. "Not so sure about 'im, though. Is he right in the head? Oy, mate, which loony bin did you escape from?"

The Doctor tugged at the TARDIS's monitor, took a look at a long and complicated algorithm scrolling down the screen, and then bounded over to Donna unexpectedly.

Taking her by the shoulders, he gave the temp a mammoth hug and then pulled back to look at her affectionately, a ridiculously wide grin spreading across his face. "Donna Noble!"

"Who are you? Am I supposed to know you? How'd you know my name? 'cause I'm _so_ not in the phone book…"

The Doctor winced, pulling a face that said he'd definitely put his foot in something gooey. "Err…_well_…um…I'm a good guesser? Very, _very_ good guesser. In fact, some people might even say I'm a bit of a mind reader, I'm so good at deducing the un-ducable!"

Donna slapped him across the cheek so hard the noise echoed inside the hollow of the TARDIS's innards.

He rubbed at his face distractedly, but the grin didn't falter. "Aww _brilliant_! Just like old times!"

"_Old times_?" Donna fumed. "I'll give you old times! I need to get home. I need to report _a murder_…"

The TARDIS seemed to groan and wheeze, the pulsing rotor juddering in mid-stroke until the Doctor kicked at a handle on the console with the toe of one of his All Stars.

The juddering ceased and he refocused on Donna, his nose puckering in bewilderment. "What? _What? WHAT_? Who's been murdered..?"

Donna slapped a hand onto her hip, noting with satisfaction that she'd regained his attention. "_You will_, if I don't get back to Chiswick, pronto! It_ is_ Christmas, ya know? Good will to all men and all that…"

The Doctor's eyes widened until they looked like huge brown saucers. "Really?" Then he began slapping at his head in a similar fashion to the way he'd whacked the TARDIS controls. "That's it!" He exclaimed excitedly, jumping up across the ship to hug both Jack and Martha. "How could I have missed the truth? I mean, put two and two together and not make five…"

"Whoa, how about we skip the calculations and hit the explanations?" Jack pleaded. "In plain English…"

"The things I saw and felt while I was connected to the 'Wall' all make sense now! I shouldn't have just assumed it was evil…"

Donna huffed, rubbing at her ginger hair with the towel Martha had handed over. "If that thing isn't evil, it has a funny way of showing it! All I could get out of it was 'die with me'. Not exactly an invitation to the grand alien ball, is it now?"

The Doctor paused mid-bounce and licked his lips, mind in overdrive. "That was Tesla," he finally explained. "Something he said to the 'other me' before he was dragged into the Rift and lost in time..." The Time Lord seemed to go distant briefly before mumbling Tesla's words under his breath. "If you don't help me, then you and the rest of this world, maybe more, will die _with_ me. …"

"If you weren't there, how can you know that?" Jack looked confused.

The Doctor shrugged. "It doesn't matter, no time to explain the intricacies of…"

"Yeah, we get it," Jack agreed, quickly avoiding another lecture. "Now can you just tell me if we can defeat this thing with whatever it is you've remembered?"

"Oh yes! Defeat it, help it…_everything!_" The Doctor rubbed at his earlobe, shooting Jack a look that said he might not like what came next. "Of course, I might need a certain Torchwood member's help in the proceedings…"

"Whatever it is, you know I'm up for it." Jack winked. "Unless it's kinky. Not sure I can cope with Gallifrey's finest swinging _that_ way…"

"Not kinky, lewd or anything else _remotely_ bawdy," The Doctor scolded. "Now come on, there's something I need to show you…" He scooted along the metal grating of the time ship, diving into a section of the TARDIS Jack had never been privy to before.

Jack shrugged but followed. "Hey, I'm all for privacy if that's your kinda thing," he chuckled as he vanished from the control room, leaving Donna and Martha both looking bewildered.

"You lot are all as flippin' mad as hatters," Donna told Martha with a frown. "I mean, just _wot_ is going on?"

Martha looked slightly pained. "Um…that might be a bit hard to explain…"

"You're telling me! I've been kidnapped, attacked, chased, attacked again. And I don't even know where I am, let alone why I'm still not in my bed! And did I mention? It's Christmas. As in peace on Earth. _Peace_," she huffed again. "Not likely to get any of that around 'ere!"

"You just have to trust us."

Donna made a_ harumping_ noise that suggested the word wasn't in her vocabulary. "Well where am I then? I at least deserve to know _that_."

Martha's queasy face returned. "You're um…in the TARDIS…." She shrugged as if no further explanation could be given.

Donna sighed as if she wasn't surprised and quietly mumbled, "S'not exactly a McDonald's snack after all then…my mistake."

_TARDIS_

_Torchwood Hub_

_Cardiff_

Martha wasn't sure what to say to Donna. The ginger-haired temp had asked only once about the TARDIS and had then seemed content to sit drying her hair while the rotor burbled its familiar _vwoorping _noise.

It was definitely out of character for Donna to be so quiet.

But then, the day's events had been enough to make the sanest person need a lifetime of counselling.

Of course, it was always like that with the Doctor.

Donna just didn't remember it anymore.

Martha sometimes wished she could forget too. Forget she'd ever met the bony Gallifreyan and his cranky, semi-sentient spaceship.

But she couldn't, and to remind her of the fact, the TARDIS began to power down, the green glow from its central shaft fading just a touch as it started to materialize in a new location.

Matching his ship's timing impeccably, the Doctor reappeared from the bowels of the TARDIS with Jack Harkness at his side. Both men seemed distant, as if whatever they'd discussed was the one thing they now had to concentrate on.

A grim-faced Doctor was bad enough, but when Jack was all-business too, things were way worse than bad – they were desperate.

To compound the situation further, Jack had his trademark revolver in his hand, sliding in shells silently until the cylinder was full.

_The Doctor doesn't condone violence…and yet he's not stopping Jack. He's not even commenting on the gun… _

Martha winced, remembering again that this was not her Doctor, but the one who had committed genocide. Was he about to do the same again with the Tau K'mon?

_But he's different now…he wouldn't… _

And what use was a gun against the 'Wall' anyway?

"Is everything alright?" Martha asked, unable to think of anything else to say that wouldn't give away her feelings.

"Oh, everything's just peachy. Can't think of anything I'd rather be doing." Donna pulled a face. "Now can you lot just _get on with it_ – whatever it is you're supposed to be doing, I mean. 'cause its boring in 'ere. So need a plasma screen TV and a bowl of nuts in this place…"

A small smile chased the grimness from The Doctor's face, and he looked at Donna affectionately. "Whatever happens, just stay in here, Donna. It'll all be over soon, I promise…"

"I bet you say that to all the girls. Well don't think that charming smile of yours is gonna win you any favours with me, mate." She crossed her arms and glanced at the TARDIS door. "_Well?_ Hurry up then! I wanna be home for tea. _This_ century…"

"This century it is, then!" The Doctor looked to Jack expectantly. "Shall we?"

"Don't mind if I do." Jack beamed strangely back and took point, hopping out of the TARDIS with the Time Lord close at his heels.

Martha watched them go, unsure if she should follow. This was something the Doctor had obviously planned without keeping her in the loop, but did that mean he was protecting her, or something more sinister?

Deciding she needed to find out, she jogged to the ship's door and peered out into the gloom.

Torchwood seemed to be running in emergency mode, red flashing secondary lighting the only true illumination in the whole structure.

The air was thick too, as if ventilation was offline.

She'd seen it like this before, but somehow if felt different this time.

_Final. _

Near the huge cogged entrance, the 'Wall' glittered like a distant star shining in the midst of the cosmos. It looked almost benevolent, if not for the fact that it still held Rose as a hostage.

Now though, Rose had been allowed to stand free of its tentacle-like grip so that she could talk and move, albeit in a confined space.

The creature seemed to have given the girl some kind of boundary that could not be crossed, and every now and then, should she stray too closely to her invisible prison's edge, she was made to pay with a jolt of raw energy.

It was painful for Martha to witness, but as she watched the Doctor cross the Hub towards his transformed nemesis, she realized it must be even more agonizing for him.

Martha took a deep breath, trying to remain calm even though her pulse was pounding in her ears.

The Hub seemed to smell of ozone, of death, even though no one had died here – _yet._

"You've got what you wanted," the Doctor began. "I'm here, and I'll do whatever you want if you'll just let Rose go…"

Rose turned, looking expectantly to her captor. Surprisingly, the thing hissed like a kettle coming to boiling point, tiny sparks bouncing from its permeable edges as if it was excited.

"Go…to him," the 'Wall' commanded in deep, disjointed tones. "Join your lover…one last time…"

Martha felt her fingernails begin to dig into the centre of her palms as she flexed them with just a little too much vigour.

The 'Wall' was giving too much up, being too generous at this point in the game. _And I don't like the sound of 'one last time', either._ She continued to watch anyway, both transfixed and terrified of what might happen next.

Rose took a step forwards, testing the 'Wall's' honesty.

Nothing held her back, and the creature didn't try to stop her progress. Moving more quickly, she crossed over to the Doctor and took his hand, wrapping her fingers around his and squeezing tightly.

He squeezed back, and just a hint of a smile passed over his lips before he returned his full attention to the 'Wall'.

The heaving mass was changing colour again, suggesting its mood was altering.

"I will…enjoy watching Rose and your friends suffer," it spat mechanically.

The Doctor's back straightened like he'd suddenly been called to attention. "If you think I'd ever let you hurt them…"

The 'Wall' laughed, sparks skittering along the concrete floor from its swelling form. "My intention isn't to harm them…it's to hurt _you_…" the laughing grew intense, reverberating off Torchwood's walls until the room began to shake like a mini-tremor had hit Cardiff.

"But you need him, you said so yourself! You can't kill him!" Rose blurted out the rebuke, but her expression said she didn't believe it even before the thing replied.

"Oh really? Why would I need the Doctor anymore when Mr Harkness appears to know all the system overrides to the Rift Manipulator?"

From her vantage point, Martha saw every pair of eyes in the room shift to where Jack was standing.

Since he'd left the TARDIS, he'd been strangely quiet, and it was easily evident why.

The centres of his eyes now glowed the same dark orange as the 'Wall'.

Aware that everyone was staring at him, Jack turned like a machine to face them, all his free will apparently taken from him by the Tau K'mon's evil influence.

His actions, his jerky movements mirrored those of the man back in the wilderness.

Whoever he'd once been, he was now nothing more than a vessel commanded by the enemy.

And worse still, his right hand contained the pistol he'd loaded back in the TARDIS, the shaking barrel now pointed at the Doctor's chest.

"No!" Martha gasped, unable to keep her feelings in check. But it didn't matter. No one else in the room heard her anyway. They were all too busy listening to what Jack had to say.

"Guess I can finally get a little payback for the immortality crap now, huh, Doc? Ya know, living forever kinda_ sucks_…"

"You don't mean that!" Rose interrupted. "It's 'im! Tesla talking! And anyway, you can't blame the Doctor for what happened on the Gamestation, that was me…if anyone ruined your life, it was _me_…_I _am the bad wolf, remember?"

Jack's shimmering eyes flashed with even more colour, even though there was no feeling behind them anymore. "Oh, honey…it was still _his_ fault…"

A gunshot resonated through Torchwood's central chamber, its echo sounding hollow, as it left no further time for talk_._

And as the last vestiges of sound ceased to repeat, the Doctor fell to his knees, his face obscured by his pained body's contortions.

"_No!"_ This time, Martha's yelp was heard by everyone, but it was too late to stop the atrocity, too late for her to do anything except dive forwards out of the safety of the TARDIS in an attempt to help her fallen friend.

Even that small contribution was too much for the 'Wall' to allow, and as she ran across Torchwood's interior, she suddenly smashed into an invisible barrier that held her back.

Were the Tau K'mon becoming so powerful they could create walls of energy outside their own being?

Martha pushed at the phenomenon, but it was like pressing against a thickly padded surface that there was no way to break through.

She looked on helplessly as Rose rolled the Doctor onto her lap, his head resting limply in her arms as tears streamed down her face.

_This isn't how it's supposed to end!_ Martha hammered on the translucent barrier willing it to give in. "Jack! _JACK! _Snap_ out_ of it!"

But Jack wasn't listening.

The minute the projectile had left his weapon, he had turned his attention back to the Rift Manipulator, plugging in cables here, pressing controls there until a varied array of lights now illuminated the area where he was working.

He showed no remorse about shooting his friend execution-style, nor did he show the slightest interest in whether the Doctor was alive or dead.

He simply worked, faster and faster, patching in electrical feeds and breaching security protocols to accomplish his mission.

Martha felt sick as she was forced to watch one friend commit the ultimate betrayal, and the other bleed to death before her eyes – with no hope of stopping either event.

The 'Wall', or maybe just the consciousness that was Tesla, appeared to pick up on her thoughts. "Watch him _die_…watch her suffer for his sake…"

And Martha found she had little choice but to do as the thing suggested.

Rose was rocking back and forth, the Doctor still cradled in her arms, her face reddened with the sudden onrush of tears and the reality that her world had once again just imploded – this time, for the last time.

Martha felt her own eyes begin to fill with moisture, and she rubbed at them with the back of her hand. It was right for Rose to be filled with grief, torment, regret, the whole slew of emotions that went with the possible loss of a loved one.

But Martha couldn't feel that way. She was the only person left who could do anything to stop things going any further – even though she had no clue how yet.

_What would the Doctor do? Think, think… _

Martha forced herself to look back at his lanky form. He might not be dead yet, there might be still time if she could just _think…_

_Wait a minute, there's something wrong…something not right about this whole scene…_

Something was 'off' but Martha knew her brain wasn't processing the information it was seeing properly. She was allowing her emotions to cloud her judgement.

_What am I missing? _

Before she could push her mind any further, a fresh deluge of sparks erupted from the console Jack was working at. He ignored the brief overload and turned, facing his 'master'.

"Grid power is online and the Manipulator has been reconfigured to your specifications," he droned subserviently, his whirling orbs fixated on the 'Wall'. "Shall I initiate the new start up sequence..?"

The pulsing creature ebbed forwards but stopped just short of the Torchwood boss. To Martha, it actually looked like the thing was suspicious.

Unexpectedly, a bizarre appendage made of pure energy broke from the Tau K'mon's mass. It was like the leg of an octopus squirming and twisting to touch the reconfigured machine.

Perhaps it sought to test the Manipulator somehow with pure tactile senses, or perhaps there was some other deep-seated meaning she could never pretend to understand.

Martha cursed under her breath, wishing that some force of God or nature would fry the thing as it had fried others.

The tip of its 'hand' made contact with the machine and stopped as if it had been frozen in time. Likewise, the 'Wall's' body ceased its rippling palpitations, all colour draining from its being.

As Martha watched, mouth open in awed silence, she finally realized what was happening.

Instead of the Rift Manipulator dragging more of the Tau K'mon through the gap in time and space, it was actually pulling at the 'Wall', attempting to tear it molecule by molecule into some unknown dimension or world.

The edges of the 'Wall' began to shimmer and morph as it fought the magnetic effect, and as its power was refocused on saving itself, Martha found her limbs finally free of any encumbrance.

She glanced at Jack, expecting him to try and stop her, but instead she realized he was grinning at her in a very familiar way. "Gotta have a little faith there, Martha Jones!"

He winked conspiratorially, and was about to say more when a computer terminal on the other side of the room exploded, quickly followed by another and other, some kind of system-wide cascade effect causing them to fall like dominoes.

More and more computers began to hiss, smoke, or literally catch fire as Torchwood's advanced technologies fought with an alien creature's mind.

"I am…not so easy to ensnare…Harkness…"

Jack ignored the threats coming from the enraged 'Wall' and darted for the nearest fire extinguisher station.

For a second, Martha found she couldn't take her eyes from the strange soap opera playing out in front of her. It was madness, it didn't make sense, but then nothing the Doctor was ever involved with did.

_The Doctor. _

Martha felt her stomach tighten and she suddenly forgot Jack, Tesla and even saving the world.

Diving across the room she skidded to a halt at Rose Tyler's feet, expecting to find the Doctor there in a pool of blood – except, there was no blood, and there was no Doctor.

Martha blinked and found that Donna Noble had appeared at her side despite being told to remain in the TARDIS. It was anyone's guess when she'd joined the melee, but from her expression she had also expected to find a certain Time Lord in Rose's arms.

"Oy! Aren't you supposed to be dead?" Donna had a hand on her hip again and was looking at an open wall panel that half-concealed the Doctor fiddling with a mass of wires.

At the sound of her high-pitched voice, he whirled around and grinned, brushing his jacket down as if it was covered in lint. "Nah! Not me! No blood, see?" He opened his jacket and pointed to his unblemished shirt. "Can't get shot and not bleed. I suppose that means I'm um…not very shot then!"

Martha's worried expression turned into mild annoyance. She'd almost been grieving for him and there wasn't a scratch on him. "You _faked_ it!"

"_Well_…not faked. I like to think of it more as the thespian in me sneaking out! Playing possum, that was me!" His beady eyes roved to where Jack was struggling with Torchwood's beleaguered systems. "Oops, gotta run!"

The Doctor pranced past the trapped 'Wall' and started to press buttons and levers along with Jack. The pair seemed to be working in unison, as if they already knew what must be done and were executing a well-formed plan.

"We're not gonna hold that thing much longer," Jack barked, his features twisting in irritation. "Our pal Tesla's fighting our little 'trap'. Guess he didn't fancy being flung back into the void, huh?"

The Doctor raised just one brow quizzically, but gave up his ministrations at the various consoles surrounding him. Instead of the furious typing, he clicked his fingers in the air and smirked. "I know just what we need!" He announced like he was offering up a menu, not a plan to defeat an ancient enemy.

"What?" Jack snapped back. "For someone to pull that thing's batteries?"

"Reinforcements! Cavalry! _Rear guard action_!" The Doctor sprang over to the 'Wall'. "_ME!_" he announced, and before anyone could stop him, he placed his palms on its distorted surface area and became one with the beast.

* * * *

Touching the souls of the Tau K'mon was different every time. Every 'mind meld' with the 'Wall' was like stepping into a totally different landscape; a subconscious world where communication with the whole being, or sometimes one single entity, was possible.

The Doctor was well aware that Tesla was master inside this swirling mass of minds, but it wasn't the insane Time Lord he wanted to communicate with.

Back in the alleyway, and again the second time he'd encountered the creature, he'd felt something – some_one_ familiar. He believed it had been this 'soul' that had tried to help him, to warn him about Tesla using the slate clue.

Now, maybe if he could contact this 'soul' again, it could help him fight Tesla's influence inside the 'Wall'. Maybe, just maybe, the Doctor could instigate an internal coup. Good against evil, and with his help the right side could overcome.

Of course, triumph didn't come without a price – and that price was the sacrifice of_ all_ the Tau K'mon should his plan work.

The Doctor was asking the last vestiges of good within a civilization to give up their existence so that the Earth might survive.

_Am I asking too much?_ He had to wonder if this wasn't tantamount to causing genocide all over again. Would his 'twin' even consider this plan?

The Doctor reminded himself that he couldn't think that way. He was the one here, now. He was the one faced with the decision.

And if it came to it, just where was his 'brother of time' anyway?

The 'Wall' seemed to squirm beneath his fingers and the Doctor pushed away his thoughts. He was letting too much through,_ feeling_ too much when he should be doing the exact opposite.

_Where are you?_ His mind screamed for the 'soul' that had been his guide inside the miasma before. _Why can't I reach out to you, sense you anymore?_

And then the voices were closing in, one screaming, vengeful and unsympathetic and the other so very afraid.

_Tesla against the weaker entities… _

The Doctor tried to think of nothing, just a void, an empty ocean of blackness that stretched to infinity as he attempted to contact the latter.

_You helped me once…I need that help again… _

The energy spiking through his mind sputtered and prickled as two or more lifeforces struggled for control.

_Tesla is too strong…too…powerful…__we…cannot…fight his influence…_

The Doctor shook his head, his mouth actually speaking the words aloud this time as he remained joined with the 'Wall'. "Yes you can…he is one, we are many. He cannot wage both an inner and outer war…together we can beat him. United we stand and all that…"

_We are…afraid… _

The Doctor realized the tortured souls didn't fear Tesla, but their own demise – and he couldn't blame them for their hesitation. As a mere human, he too felt the inner demons of his own mortality.

Perhaps these souls had seen their fate inside his head. Maybe his defences hadn't been all he had hoped. It didn't really matter, though, how they knew, the end result would be the same.

Tesla, the 'Wall' and all that it was made up of, would be sucked into oblivion if the Doctor succeeded.

Another voice entered the mental dreamscape, and it didn't just want to talk. Tesla was here, pushing at the fortifications in the Doctor's mind, feeling for a weakness, a spot were he could attack and destroy.

_You cannot beat me, Doctor…I am the perfect entity…pure energy…pure hatred…Surely you don't think these pathetic creatures that dwell within __this shell with me are strong enough to help you? _

The Doctor closed his eyes briefly, concentrating, blocking the tendrils testing the edges of his mind. Tesla's words were brave enough, but could he truly back them up?

Tesla's internal voice laughed. _Watch as I destroy you, and then your friends..._

The Doctor yelped in surprise as the icy fingers in his head suddenly became spears of pain – and not just any pain – Tesla was attacking his mental barricade, and he wasn't exactly using light artillery for the abrupt full frontal.

_You have to fight him…_The Doctor begged the souls now quiet inside the 'Wall'. _He caused the deaths of your physical bodies…he'll cause countless more if we don't stop him… _

There was no answer, only the continued assault from Tesla's subconscious.

And Tesla was strong.

The Doctor had the urge to pull his palms away from the 'Wall' and give in. What good could he do if Tesla was able to penetrate his mind and destroy him?

_You're thinking about your own mortality. That's not what's important here…_

He felt his body begin to shake as the current of energy running through it increased. His muscles fought to keep control, but Tesla was winning the fight, slowly electrocuting the Doctor, frying his synapses even though he hadn't been able to break the barriers within the human Time Lord's mind.

_What do you…need us to do…? _

The voices of the honourable Tau K'mon returned, their presence a mere whimper at the side of Tesla's.

The Doctor gritted his teeth, struggling to maintain contact as he wrestled with consciousness, the edges of his vision growing ever darker.

_Focus on him,_ the Doctor instructed. _Let your minds will him into submission. Envisage some huge, gigantic old nothingness and imagine him there…__**force**__ him there…_

Tesla screamed inside the 'Wall' as he realized the Doctor's plan, and as he screamed, his essence emitted one final blast of temper-fuelled energy that brought the Doctor to his knees.

The Time Lord almost lost his grip on reality, on willing Tesla into oblivion and saving humanity. He was tired, so tired.

But then, just one thing caught in the periphery of his vision.

One small, frightened blonde, whose features told him that no matter what happened next, she trusted him, _loved_ him and would do so for all eternity.

Rose's tear-filled face was like a lifesaving drug, and the Doctor used it to focus on as he fought back. Tesla was losing and all they had to do now was push him over the edge.

_Just think about the void…_The Doctor fixed on an image in his mind of the 'Wall' being sucked into the abyss by the Rift Manipulator, and continued to urge the other souls to do the same.

And with each passing moment, even though his eyes were closed, the Doctor sensed more and more of the thing beneath his hands begin to dissipate as its quintessence was drawn into the black maw of the wormhole.

Tesla stabbed out one last time in desperation, sparks dancing from the 'Wall' and bathing the Doctor in their unhealthy light.

The Time Lord shook, but didn't release his hold on the 'Wall' even though remaining in contact might kill him.

_Die with me… _

Tesla's words filled the Hub like they'd been shrieked down a massive loudspeaker, reverberating off the concrete until the very floor shook with the vibrations.

And then, the 'Wall' and every last entity known as the Tau K'mon, were gone, lost to a place from which they could never return.

The Doctor hunkered over, burying his head between his knees as he gasped down air.

Somewhere, perhaps from the depths of time and space itself, perhaps simply in his mind, a hundred indebted voices whispered their gratitude.

_Thank you…for finally giving us…peace…_

The words should have given him comfort. The very fact that he had helped save billions of lives should have given him at least some solace, but it didn't, because he had been forced to trap innocent, tortured souls in a perpetual prison.

_I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,_ his mind yelled back in bitterness.

But sometimes, sorry just wasn't enough.

* * * *

It seemed like everyone converged on the Doctor at once, a plethora of gabbling voices demanding answers that even his high-speed brain couldn't process fast enough.

Rose wanted to hug him, to wrap her arms around him and never let go. Donna wanted to know just why _she'd_ been involved in such madness, and who were they all anyway?

Jack wanted his team back, his Hub back, and for unspeakable things with Ianto he dare not suggest in the Doctor's presence.

And Martha, well Martha simply wanted to know that the human Time Lord she considered more than a friend was still in one piece.

"Oy you lot!" Raising a hand, she hushed the small crowd, earning dirty looks from both Rose and Donna. "Give him a minute, yeah?"

The Doctor inhaled, gathered himself and stood up.

All eyes were on him expectantly.

"I suppose you nosy lot want to know what just happened then? Well…apart from Jack, because he was in on it…although technically not as 'in on it' as me because I was really _in it_ for a bit there…"

"Never mind what happened." Rose hooked an arm around his, like she was guarding a small child. "You're alright, yeah? I mean…it didn't hurt you fighting that thing?"

The Doctor sniffed. "Nah, one hundred percent normal, me! Not a scratch on me!"

"I'd argue with the normal part," Jack chuckled.

Donna huffed, flinging her ginger hair back in temper. "Will you lot just tell me _WOT_ is going on, or was going on, or_ whatever_…?"

The Doctor rose to the challenge, oblivious to the fact Donna may well not have a clue what he was gabbling about. Only those privy to the original Montauk mess would know the full details, after all.

"Well, you see back in the TARDIS, I realized what was really going on and Jack and me plotted a plan…or planned a plot. Anyway,_ basically_, the Tau K'mon combined entity was the lifeforce from all the people who vanished at the Montauk base back in the seventies! Think about it, Tau K'mon and Montauk are the same word!"

"So, you're saying the people from Montauk's souls weren't trapped in the void or an alternate plane like the 'other' you originally thought. Instead, they were zapped back to the dawn of time to become some new kind of collective being?" Martha was remembering her time at the US Airforce base, and sadly, the human Doctor's idea sounded all-too plausible. "The name Montauk simply got corrupted over millennia and…"

"That's _exactly_ what I'm saying!" The Doctor snapped his fingers together excitedly. "Once they were stuck in the past, the more twisted souls became dominant and the Tau K'mon began pillaging different worlds' 'energy' until the Time Lords trapped them."

"You're makin' all this up!" Donna scoffed. "I've read better on the back of a Cornflake packet! You're tellin' me that thing had minds inside it? Like trapped people in a big ball? _Soul Ball_ or something..." She looked around as if eyeing up an escape route. "Wait till I tell Granddad…"

Jack took her arm. "Think of the 'Wall' as a union of lost souls. A collection of minds that never quite made it to the afterlife…"

"Ghosts then, yeah?" Donna seemed even less impressed. "As if I'm gonna fall for that one." She pulled out a chair, plonked herself down on it and folded her arms. "Pull the other one, pretty boy…"

Jack gave in and looked to the Doctor for assistance. When none came, Martha continued the conversation. "So how did you two know how to beat this 'union of souls'?"

"Like I said," the Doctor shrugged, and stuffing his hands in his trouser pockets, began to pace back and forth. "Tau K'mon was really a corruption of Montauk. Likewise, their nickname, the 'Wall' was also a distortion! The 'Wall' was never about describing their physical attributes, _oh no!_ Over the millennia the word's significance had become misinterpreted…"

Donna looked at her watch. "You're like one of those books that everyone skips the middle of, you are, ain't ya?"

The Doctor blinked, one brow darting skywards at a ridiculous angle.

"Will you just skip to the good bits," Donna explained tetchily.

"The 'Wall' wasn't their name," Jack offered helpfully, a wry smile appearing. "It was a way to beat them."

"Exactly," the Doctor agreed brightly. "And I never had amnesia! My big old brain threw up those blank spots on purpose to stop the thing getting in after it attacked me the first time! I just didn't realize it! It was _a wall_ in my mind, get it?"

"I haven't _got it_ for hours," Donna shook her head, mumbling despite everyone ignoring her. "The only thing I've _got_ is a right bunch of nutters, if you ask me…"

"So that's what you and Jack planned?" Rose finally spoke up, satisfied that her man was in one piece. "Jack let the 'Wall' think it was controlling him, while all the time he'd managed to keep it out of his head enough to rig the Manipulator as a trap?"

The Doctor nodded, still grinning.

"But he_ shot_ you," Donna intoned, her voice suggesting her annoyance level was at its peak. "We saw him load the gun!"

"You saw me load the gun with dummies," Jack eyes sparkled. "And trust me that's the only time you'll catch me firing blanks…"

Martha winced at the comment but didn't rebuke the Captain – she knew full well there was no point. Instead, she asked, "So why didn't you tell us the plan instead of scaring us all half to death?"

The Doctor sniffed. "Because A, the whole thing had to look believable, you had to really think Jack had been overcome! And B, or two, or zwei as the Germans say…if the 'Wall' had possessed anyone else, it would instantly have known all about our wonderful little ruse!"

"So if it all went so well, why risk touching that thing again at the end?" Rose watched him a little too intently as she spoke, and Martha suspected the young blonde thought her man was possibly even more suicidal than his 'brother'.

In truth, Martha was inclined to agree.

"Because Tesla was winning, and I knew not all the souls inside that thing wanted to be there. Some still held a vestige of their humanity. I sensed their pain, their anger, their willingness to help the second time I joined with it. It just took my addled brain a while to work out the details! Wasn't quite firing on all cylinders and all that!"

Rose bit into her bottom lip, apparently once again saddened by the things she lived through. "So in the end, the souls from Montauk gave up any hope of being freed to save us?" She sighed. "To save mankind, yeah?"

The Doctor's face mirrored Rose's. "I'm so sorry that I couldn't help them, but there was nowhere for their minds to go even if I could have separated them from Tesla and their evil counterparts. They had no bodies, no form to inhabit…"

The Hub grew silent.

Even Donna stopped grumbling and paid her last respects to the Tau K'mon with a moment of stillness.

Then, as if signalling the world should move on, another bank of the Hub's computers decided to erupt in a pillar of white and black smoke.

The tiny explosion made the Doctor look up, focusing on Harkness. He looked exasperated, but it was hard to tell if he was joking or not. "And oy you! What did you mean, immortality sucks? You've never complained before!"

Before Jack could respond, Donna joined in the fracas by whacking the unsuspecting Torchwood leader across the face.

Jack took both altercations in his stride. "Hey, what is this? Pick on Harkness day?" He smirked at Donna. "So what was that for?" He rubbed at his chin.

"For scaring me. At Christmas. When I should be home watching _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_ or somethin'_…_" She took a breath.

The Doctor rolled his eyes and slapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh _no! _ Never, not ever, as in eternally _do not_, say the words bang bang _to him_…"

Jack chuckled, Donna scowled, and everyone else finally dared to laugh as the snow outside gently fell on the empty streets of Cardiff.

* * * *

Rose couldn't help but occasionally stare at the Doctor as they walked through the inner chambers of the Hub. She had been parted from him so many times, but never had it been so frightening as this time.

Because_ this_ Doctor was far more fragile than the one she had once loved.

_This_ Doctor had only _one_ life to give.

Right now, he was blathering about how he and Jack had reconfigured the Manipulator, and she let him drone on without actually taking in any of the words.

Just the wonderful sound of his voice was enough, telling her he was alive, he was here with her, and they were going to spend Christmas _together._

Together and _safe._

Somewhere above them, Rose could hear Donna giving Jack grief about going home. It was late, and Granddad would be worried. The ginger temp sounded furious, but Rose knew it was just another defence mechanism. She sometimes had similar reactions herself since she'd been around a certain Time Lord.

"I think…I think we have a lot to talk about…" The Doctor's sudden change of topic caught Rose off guard.

This wasn't the same man she'd been 'given' on Bad Wolf Bay. He had learned, had _grown_, just as his 'brother' had expected he would.

When she'd first kissed him on that lonely beach, she'd sensed his love for her, but also a hesitation, a feeling that deep down he believed he was nothing more than a consolation prize.

Perhaps in the beginning he had been, but things were different now.

A pang of guilt hit her at the memory of that fateful day, the memory of her gut wrenching inside as the true Doctor had departed in the TARDIS, leaving her behind.

But that had been a long time ago – it seemed like a lifetime, in fact, even if it had only been months. "There's nothing to talk about…" She turned to smile at him, intending to finally tell him what she wanted for their future.

_Together__._

Either here on Earth or wherever he chose to call home now.

Except, instead of meeting the Doctor's doleful eyes, Rose's gaze met with nothing…

_TBC…._


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter Seven_

Martha had heard the cloister bell chime from the TARDIS' innards two seconds before she'd heard Rose Tyler scream.

And Rose never screamed, not even if she was about to be devoured by some enormous alien entity or was trapped in a different dimension.

Martha hadn't been sure which sound alarmed her the most.

The cloister bell was a portent that something bad was about to happen, and Rose's gut-wrenching cry signalled it already had.

Ignoring the butterflies' frenzied attempts to escape from her stomach, Martha had turned and run to find Rose kneeling on the floor, her petite body stooping over the Doctor where he had apparently fallen.

It was an action replay of the scene in the Hub only half an hour earlier, and yet Martha had been sure there was no playacting involved this time.

And Martha had been right.

That had been six hours ago now, and although the human Time Lord hadn't been dead at Rose's feet as she'd first feared, Martha was afraid it was only a matter of time.

She sighed at her own wording.

_Time…_

Why did everything in her life revolve around it?

Martha glanced across the darkened Torchwood interior to where Rose was sitting, her face tear-streaked, and her eyes puffy and red. She could more than imagine what the other girl was going through.

On the outside, Martha appeared unaffected by what was happening; but on the inside, she felt the blonde's suffering every bit as badly. Probably even more so, because as a doctor she saw the awful truths more plainly than any layman could.

But should she tell Rose? Should she kill any hope the girl had? Or should she let nature take its probable course?

It wasn't hard to see, really, if you put all the facts together.

The Doctor had collapsed at Rose's feet, and for the first few hours his heart had raced at an incredible pace, blood pounding through his veins like he was running a marathon.

But then, ever so gradually, it had begun to slow until Martha could barely feel a pulse.

He was dying, and despite running every test known to man, and then a few others, Martha could find no physical reason for his condition. The Rift didn't seem to have left any residual traces in his system, and there didn't appear to be any nerve damage left by the electrical currents he'd been subjected to.

She'd found no reason for the coma he'd apparently slipped into – not until she'd begun to think outside his 'human' physiology.

Outside the 'box'.

_Just not the little blue police one…._

Yes, this Doctor came from the same gene pool as everyone else on Earth, his cells contained exactly the same amount of chromosomes, but his mind held the vast knowledge of a Time Lord.

It was then that it had hit Martha what the problem was.

Like Donna, his body was far too frail to contain the whirlpool of information swimming through it. She had no clue why he'd lasted longer than the temp before the effects had become apparent, perhaps she'd never know.

But unless his mind could be cleared of some of the clutter, he'd die, consumed by his own knowledge.

_And there's no Doctor to help him, not like there was Donna…_

Martha looked upwards, even though all that she could discern were a few odd shadows and a brief flutter of wings.

Somewhere above her was the glistening silver fountain that seemed to ooze hope and serenity in the heart of Cardiff.

Why didn't it give her that hope now?

Why were there no definitive answers to _anything?_

What had happened to the real Doctor after he'd left her home? Had he gone on to regenerate and start again, or had Montauk been the last true Time Lord's swansong?

The simple fact that he had not appeared now, when Earth needed him, didn't bode well for his chances anymore than his 'human' counterpart's.

Martha felt a tinge of moisture begin to cloud her eyes and she rubbed at them, willing herself not to cry. Neither Time Lord would want that.

_This could be it, both of them gone…and I've no way to stop it happening this time anymore than I did__ at the Airbase… _

Martha closed her eyes, reliving better days, days she couldn't return to ever again, not even with the TARDIS. Inside it was like part of her was dying too – like the world around her was slowing, coming to an end with every last breath the human Doctor took.

When they'd first met, she had doubted him, been suspicious of him even; but now it was too late, she knew he_ was_ her Doctor, always had been.

She opened her eyes and realized that she'd begun to cry despite her earlier attempts not to.

If thinking he'd been shot had been hard, even for the briefest of periods, then this was unbearable.

She rubbed away the wetness from her cheeks and smiled. "You just have a blue suit, not a brown one," she muttered to no one in particular. "But you're still very much _the_ Doctor…"

A cup of coffee stood on the table before her, and she picked it up, taking a sip, only to realize the sludgy brown liquid was cold. How long had it sat waiting for her since Jack had brought it over?

A hand squeezed her shoulder, and Martha forgot the drink as she turned to stare into Rose's devastated eyes.

The blonde looked at her for a moment.

"He isn't going to wake up, is he?" she asked, voice quivering as if the room temperature had dipped well below zero.

Martha froze, unable to confide her suspicions to Rose. It wasn't fair to tell her, was it?

"It's all right, I know," Rose offered, her gaze shifting towards Torchwood's sickbay, even though she couldn't see the Doctor from here. "What happened to Donna, it's started to happen to 'im, hasn't it?"

Martha's stomach lurched. "I don't know…"

It wasn't a lie. She didn't _know_ anything, but she _suspected._

Rose nodded as if her friend had confessed all anyway. "Can I see him? He shouldn't be alone when…"

Martha didn't know what else to say, so she simply nodded and lead Rose across the underground chamber to where she had left the Doctor. At least he'd looked peaceful when she'd left him, she thought. Rose wouldn't have to see him suffer.

Rose stopped dead in front of Martha, and Martha almost stumbled into her in surprise. Had he worsened in the few minutes since she'd last checked on him?

Brushing past the blonde to look down into the medical area, Martha found her own legs abruptly stalling as she caught sight of the scene that lay below.

The Doctor had somehow vanished from the bed, only to be replaced by Donna Noble. The temp was curled snugly into a ball and had been covered by a familiar blue jacket that rose and fell with her peaceful slumber.

As both girls gawked, Donna seemed to sense the intrusion, yawned, and then blearily looked up.

Becoming acutely aware that she was the object of two dumbfounded women's attention, she glowered. "_Wot now?_ Can't a kidnapped girl even get a kip around 'ere?"

"Wh…where's the Doctor?" Rose stammered, the fear in her voice intensifying as she seemingly began to think the worst.

"Good old skinny ribs? Well, he's not 'ere, _obviously_. I found the bed, finder's keepers and all that." Donna sniffed. "Actually…I think he went to play with that kettle…"

"What kettle?" Martha and Rose both chimed in incredulously and in chorus.

Donna yawned again and let her head slide back to the pillow on the bed. She looked annoyed, but mostly exhausted. "The one he was playing with, of course…"

And with that her heavy lids slid closed and she let out an almost instant snore.

Rose and Martha looked at one another and then both launched into a sprint for Jack Harkness' office. It was the nearest place that had any kind of tea or coffee making appliances, and there was a light glowing on the Captain's desk that signalled someone was 'home'.

Rose bounded in first, only to balk at the ridiculously loud sound of someone munching.

Sitting in Jack's chair, oblivious to the stir he was causing, was the Doctor, a half-eaten biscuit in his hand. "Hello there! Garibaldi anyone?"

Rose couldn't contain herself.

She ran at full pelt across the room, grabbing him so tightly the biscuit in his hand was squashed against his chest, disintegrating in a thousand annoying crumbs down the front of his shirt.

"They're not _that _bad," the Doctor exclaimed, hugging Rose back whilst taking a second to look at the remains of the biscuit. "'Course, Jack nicks all the chocolate ones and stashes them in his top drawer."

"I _so _do not!"

Everyone paused, realizing that Jack had now joined them too. He was grinning happily at the sight of the Doctor alive and well as he leaned on the Hub's innards.

"But you were…" Martha shook her head. "We all thought…"

"We thought you were dying…y'know, like you had the same thing Donna had when she got downloaded with all that Time Lord stuff," Rose finished for Martha. "We didn't know what else to think…"

The Doctor took her hand and held it tightly as she turned to stand by his side. "Nah," he explained breezily. "My neural pathways were built for the extra load. Not like poor old Donna, she was stuck with the noodle she was born with, but I was born with the extra noodle I'm now stuck with, if you see what I mean?"

Rose grimaced. "I'm not sure I ever get what you mean, not completely, anyway."

"So if you're not… ya know, _dying_." Jack winced at the very thought. "What the hell was wrong with you back there?"

The Doctor opened Jack's top drawer, grinned at the sight of a packet of unopened Mcvities chocolate digestives and then took down a long, sobering breath. "Well…_I_ wasn't the one dying…"

"But you _felt_ it," Martha's elation dissolved. Her initial reasoning for his sudden coma had been way off the mark, but now? Now she knew the cause of this Doctor's pain.

It was evident in his most recent expression.

Evident from what had been happening to him over the last few hours.

"Is he…dead?" Martha dared to ask, her voice catching in her throat.

"Is who dead?" Rose wasn't getting it.

The Doctor put the biscuits down, his eyes glistening with moisture in a rare show of emotion. "She means the other me. The _real _me."

"After Montauk," Martha explained. "The Doctor was sick. I mean _really_ sick because of the wormhole energy he'd been exposed to. He took me home and then left, and somehow, one way or another I knew I'd never see _him_ again."

The human Doctor looked up, the wetness in his eyes at least allowing a little of the old spark to show through. "We're connected you see. I'm connected to my TARDIS, he's connected to his…and um, I suppose that makes us connected to one another. I feel what he feels and vice versa. The psychic link between the four is just too comparable, alike, _similar_…" He stood, pulling at his earlobe in thought. "Like Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny Devito in_ Twins_!" he declared.

"They were nothing alike," Jack pointed out helpfully.

The Doctor scowled. "Picky! Why do you always have to pickety pick pick?"

"So the other Doctor?" Martha wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer, and from her expression, it looked like Rose didn't either.

But there was no going back. Either the Universe had just lost its last true Gallifreyan, or it hadn't.

"Well…he's _alive_," The Doctor muttered. "But he's not_ me_ anymore. Totally different teeth and _everything._ And these were good teeth. Always wanted to keep these teeth in my next regeneration…"

Rose's shoulders sagged and Martha had to wonder what she was going through. To lose a loved one, but still have them like this was a totally new concept. Had Rose loved both Doctors in different ways?

Would part of her still love the 'new' Doctor as she had after his last regeneration?

The human Doctor appeared to come to the same conclusion. Taking Rose's hand he squeezed it, looking into her eyes with his own mesmerizing deep brown orbs.

"Maybe you should go to him now. You don't need a bad copy when you can have the real McCoy." He shrugged trying to be jovial. "'Course, by the looks of him, me, oh_ whoever_…he might be busy auditioning for a boy band or something, but…"

"Why would I want him when I have you?" Rose's eyes didn't flinch as she made her answer.

"_Well…"_ The Doctor rolled the word off his tongue and scratched his head as if he actually had to think of a valid answer. "He is a bit of a toy boy! Floppy hair and everything!" His voice deepened, becoming more serious. "But he's the real Time Lord, not me. I'm just a mistake, an anomaly that should never have happened…an error, a gaffe, a bloomer…"

"You might be all those things." Rose nodded, her face cracking into a wide smile. "But I love _my_ Time Lord _just_ the way he is." She reached up, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

Jack sucked down a breath. "Typical," he bemoaned. "Why is it I never get to lock lips with anyone _remotely_ interesting…"

Rose finally stepped back from the Doctor, leaving her arms wrapped loosely around his neck. She didn't let her gaze stray from his. "Just remember," she said. "He may be able to regenerate, but you have one thing he can never have…you'll never be alone…"

The Doctor sucked down a breath and stuffed both hands in his trouser pockets. "Yeah…" he agreed matter-of-factly. "But he's got the overcoat. Always loved that overcoat. Wanted to cry when it got frizzled." He looked at Rose. "Do you think he might fancy giving it up? I mean, he's not gonna want it now he's a new man and all that…"

Rose chuckled. "I s'pose you'll have to ask him!" She cocked her head cheekily looking at her man. "He's not ginger is he?"

"Nope," the Doctor confirmed. "Never been a ginger me…well, not unless he buys a wig..." He smirked wickedly. "Imagine that! Me in a big old ginger wig! Or maybe not…" He paused. "_Still_…he is a bit intense looking. Might have to have a word with him about that if we ever meet…"

"I'm sure you will." Martha couldn't help but smile. "You two always end up at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"And heaven help us all when those two get together again," Jack agreed.

"So what will you two do in the meantime?" Martha wasn't sure she really wanted to know, because whatever the Doctor and Rose decided, it would probably mean she wouldn't see the Time Lord again for awhile.

He had a life now with Rose – a real life.

_And I have one with Tom, I have to remember that…_

The Doctor shrugged, apparently not sensing her pain at the thought of losing him again. Or if he did sense it, he masked the knowledge well. Still, that was something he'd always been good at.

The Doctor rubbed at the light growth of stubble on his chin. "_Well_…I was considering growing that beard back! Don't want anymore people like Colonel Mace thinking I'm an _actual Time Lord_ and trying to salute me!" His face spread into a wide grin.

Martha knew he was teasing and decided to return the favour. "What? You two not planning to have kids then?" She craftily winked at Rose just before the Doctor's face had chance to transform into a look of complete terror.

He never flinched while fighting the harshest of ancient alien enemies, but he cowered at the thought of parenthood, apparently.

"No thanks. I'm too much of a kid to actually _have _kids," the Doctor offered. "And besides! I can shave a beard off if it gets annoying! Can't say the same for a kid! Nope…definitely not ready to be a Doctor Daddy just yet!"

"He does have a point," Jack cocked a brow in agreement. "Although lemme tell ya, Doc, you can have a whole lotta fun trying…"

The Doctor didn't answer and Martha wondered if just a little bit of Jack was rubbing off on him. Either that, or he'd given up on the despicably lewd Torchwood boss.

Before Martha could deliberate which was most likely, a mobile phone began to warble an ancient tune it actually took her valuable seconds to recognize.

"_Calling occupants of interplanetary craft, calling occupants…" _

Eventually, Martha realized it was The Carpenters 1977 cover version of the Klaatu classic.

And it was emanating from a phone.

In the _Doctor's_ pocket.

The Time Lord fumbled to find the device, his face a picture of utter embarrassment at the absurdity of the jingle given his occupation. Eventually, he pulled the red Sony Ericsson free and handed it over to Rose.

"_Awww_…Jacqui's been messing with the ringtone _again_!" he groused.

Rose scowled back at him. "Well it's better than that Argolian stuff you're always listening to! And anyway, if you ask me, you and mum _both _have terrible taste in music. The pair of you are tone deaf!"

She stopped mid-sentence remembering there was actually an incoming call. Pressing the phone to her ear, she smiled at the voice on the other end of the line. "Hi, Dad."

Everyone in the room relaxed just a little. When the Doctor received any kind of call, it was usually an emergency from halfway across the galaxy. Knowing it was just Pete Tyler, probably complaining about being stuck on the lost moon of Poosh with Jacqui Tyler, lightened the mood.

Pete and Jacqui were definitely the odd couple who were bizarrely made for each other.

Rose's head bobbed up and down as she took in the details she was being given from halfway across the Universe. Eventually, she looked apologetically at the Doctor. "I think we gotta leave," she explained worriedly. "Mum's gone missing..."

"Probably shopping," the Doctor mumbled just low enough for Rose not to hear him. "Never seen a woman take so long to choose between a beef lasagne and a curry in all my life. And um…that's saying something, given the length of my life. Or at least, the memories I have of the _other_ me's life…" He took a breath. "Or _something_…"

"Dad says Mum found this strange looking brooch and started acting all weird." Rose looked at the Doctor expectantly. "_Well?"_ she prodded.

"I suppose we better leg it back to the lost moon and do a spot of mother hunting, then! Nasty things in the wrong hands!" the Doctor smiled, "Brooches, I mean!" He added, and no-one quite knew whether to take him seriously or not. "Just imagine the damage you could do with one of those pins…"

The smile widened and he bounded towards the TARDIS door, only stopping briefly to make sure Rose was following. "Come on then!" He beckoned. "We might just make it back before Boxing Day!"

Rose dived inside the time ship after him and the little blue box's door closed silently behind them. The light atop the TARDIS began to slowly flash, and everyone in the Hub took a step backwards, but before the familiar shape had chance to start to dematerialize, the door suddenly popped back open.

The Doctor bobbed his head out and threw a handful of snow into Torchwood's interior, giving no clue how he'd acquired it. His smile grew into one of his outrageous grins. "Almost forgot! Merry Christmas everyone!"

He waved, and then vanished back inside just as the ship began to wheeze and groan.

Jack laughed and, shaking his head, grabbed something off his desk, making a quick dash for the TARDIS door before it had chance to completely fade away.

Martha squinted, just managing to see what the unruly captain had done.

Slapped waist high across the TARDIS door was a bumper sticker that read, 'My other car is a DeLorean!'

"He's going to kill you when he sees that," she laughed, some inner part of her wishing she was the one inside the police box instead of Rose.

Jack folded his arms and chuckled mischievously. "Nah, he loves my ass…"

"Just not as literally as you wish," Martha pointed out, taking a seat on the edge of Jack's desk.

Jack shrugged, the glint of amusement still in his eyes. "I can but dream." He looked at Martha, choosing his next words more carefully. "So, Martha Jones, what now? You gonna go back to your playmates at U.N.I.T.?"

Up until this point, Martha realized she hadn't even really thought about her future. Any plans she'd recently made had gone up in smoke the minute Mace had recruited her.

"I don't belong there," she finally admitted. "Maybe I'll just go back to my civilian life."

"It'll never work, you know that right? C'mon, you and I both know that once you've spent time with the Doctor, the world, hell the Universe, never looks the same. We're a special breed, Martha…"

"This is your way of offering me a job again, yeah?"

"Well, when you put it that way, I do kinda need a medical expert who's seen it all and then some…"

Martha stared at Jack, unsure how to answer him. He was right. Once you'd travelled with either Doctor you were tainted for life, unable to settle back into normalcy.

But could she join Torchwood full time and still have a life with Tom?

"_I've _seen it all and then some, and you're not offering _me_ a job!" Donna's high-pitched voice broke the awkwardness of the moment as she barged her way into their midst.

She stopped dead in front of Jack, eyes boring into his like she could shoot acid spikes from them.

"So, Captain W_hatsyourface_! You gonna offer _me _a job or not? You'd be amazed how good I am with handcuffs and all that kind of stuff." She winked and Jack actually blushed.

_Or is he actually scared of her__?_ Martha wondered to herself. _Finally, a woman Jack Harkness can't cope with. Amazing…_She couldn't stifle a small smile.

"No, _seriously,_ you ask Rose," Donna continued. "I can get myself out of a tight situation, I can! _And_ I can type a hundred words a minute! Fastest temp in Chiswick, that's me!"

Jack groaned, rubbing a hand across his mouth as the lengthy sermon carried on at full pelt without Donna even taking a breath. Eventually he looked at Martha pleadingly.

"It's Christmas. Can't someone save _me_ for once?" he begged.

Martha folded her arms and slowly nodded. "Alright. I'll take the job," she conceded.

"And you'll take Donna home before my ears burn up from the noise?"

Martha sucked down a breath conspiratorially. "Oh, I'll do better than that." She turned to the ginger temp. "Donna, you're hired!"

Jack screwed his eyes closed as if he'd been hearing and seeing things and the sudden lack of senses would make all the badness go away. When he took a peek out of his right eye two seconds later and both women were still in front of him, he finally broke down in uncontrolled laughter.

If you got one thing on every mission with the Doctor, it was variety, total absurdity, and fiercely independent women like these two.

And who knew what the New Year would bring next?

He waved an arm, gesturing he wanted the office to himself. "You two, go home, have a drink, eat yourselves silly, and I'll see you bright and early when the holidays are over."

Martha turned as she was leaving. "Unless you pick up any alien activity in the meantime, right?"

"Right, "Jack conceded. "Oh and…_Merry Christmas_…"

"I'd just settle for a _normal_ Christmas," Martha sighed.

"Maybe someday, "Jack conceded. "But until then, there's always the Doctor and us…"

The End


End file.
